Shelter
by LadiSmilePretty
Summary: Part I: She must have been disoriented. People normally are when raised from perdition and she had been in hell for years. Castiel watched as Jo Harvelle began to cry, alone. In a small diner in Carthage, Missouri. Part II: Ellen was a close friend of mine, the last thing I need is you to go and break her daughter's heart. Part III: I love my father. He was my hero.
1. Part I: Chapter 1

**Inspired solely by the song Shelter by Ray LaMontagne. **

**Not sure if this will be a multi-fic yet, it has just been an idea running through my head the last couple of days. Let me know what you think! **

**As always I own nothing. **

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Everyone leaves a trail. Whether it's a paper trail or the metaphorical bread crumb. Everyone can be found. No one is ever lost forever.

He was able to find anyone in the world in mere seconds. Why he hadn't looked for her earlier, he would never know. He had just assumed she was in heaven. He believed whole-heartedly that she was safe, that she was at peace. She deserved that much.

Although he would never forget her face. He was there the day she was created. He watched as his father molded her soul, her personality, the way she would look. Everything. A perfect match for a certain soul that had already been born. He should have pushed her importance, he should have forced them together, maybe then things would have gone differently.

He watched her from outside a small diner. She stared down at her coffee cup, only rising hours before this. Her hands gripped the cup as if it was the only thing holding her to this world. He could see the dirt caked under her fingernails from when she dug herself from the earth.

She must have been disoriented. People normally are when raised from perdition and she had been in hell for years. Castiel watched as Jo Harvelle began to cry, alone. In a small diner in Carthage, Missouri.

"Do you see why this is important?" The average looking man next to him asked. "You must not tell Dean Winchester. He must see for himself."

"I don't understand." Castiel shook his head.

The man rested a paternal hand on his shoulder, as he smiled wistfully, "You will, my son. You will." He turned and took Castiel's arms in his hands. "You must promise me you will show him."

Castiel bowed his head and agreed.

Xxx

Jo's lungs filled rapidly with oxygen. Her chest burned at the action. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she took in her surroundings as they adjusted to the darkness.

She was in a small pine box. She was buried alive. _No,_ Jo thought. _I'm dead, I blew up. I shouldn't have a body._

"Help." She croaked, clawing at the top of the box. Her voice barely came out in a hoarse whisper. She swallowed what saliva she could collect down her sandpaper throat, "Help!" She tried again.

She found a crack in the wood big enough to get her fingers through and pulled as hard as she could. The wood splintered and dirt poured in. It was soft and easily pliable. She was just recently buried.

Jo tried to do the math as she dug her way out of the grave. She had been in Hell for what felt like an eternity. People had told her that it had been over three hundred years.

Of course she was only tortured for sixty. She had carefully peeled the flesh of poor souls for three hundred years. She tried to keep track of time on Earth as she meticulously pulled out fingernails, repeat the names of the ones she knew were still alive like a mantra as she branded each soul for a different kind of torture.

She clawed her hands upward and she grappled for purchase in the air. She had only been buried three feet. She used handfuls of grass to pull herself out of the hole. Once her head had broken free she was able to pull the rest of her body out.

She collapsed on the hard soil, turning her head this way and that. She was in a clearing of a forest. Or what was once a forest. She leaned up on her elbows. The clearing was a perfect circle, the trees all bent at the ground. It was as if an atom bomb had gone off where her makeshift grave was.

Xxx

"No Cas." Dean slammed his fist on the table.

"Dean," Sam pleaded. "Maybe we should check it out?"

"Nope." Dean shoved another French fry in his mouth. "Send Garth."

"Dean." Castiel leaned over the table, "This is of great importance. You must come with me to Carthage."

"Nope." Dean shook his head. "There is absolutely no freaking way I'm ever going to that town again. And," He pointed a fry at Castiel. "You still have not told me why it's so damn important."

Castiel bowed his head. He could not, he was bound by a promise. "There is something you must see." He whispered.

Dean eyed him suspiciously, glancing over to his brother. "Mmhm."

"Come on, man." Sam pleaded, watching Castiel play with the hem on his trench coat. "It'll be quick. It's only a couple hours' drive."

Dean picked at the left over fries on his plate, mulling over the options. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would never, under any circumstances, step foot in Carthage again.

The devil was gone, there was no impending apocalypse. Maybe, just maybe it would be okay. He threw his napkin down on the spoils of his lunch. "Fine." Dean pointed a warning finger at Sam, "But we are in and out."

Sam nodded obediently.

Xxx

Thankfully whoever had pulled Jo out of Hell had the decency to leave her with her wallet. One night and a couple of hot meals was all she was able to afford.

She stood under the shower for what seemed like hours. The water shoved any remnants of dirt out of her hair, her skin, and her nails.

Flashes of the rack would come back to her every so often. She would have to hold onto the steadiest object closest to her while the episode passed. The shower was no different.

She knelt down to her knees as visions of blood, and exposed muscle stretching with pain clouded her mind. She pulled her knees up to her chest and cried.

Xxx

Dean was surprised to see that Carthage hadn't really changed. He couldn't stop himself before he glanced over to that old hardware store, now a vacant lot. He whipped his head around to Castiel. "Alright, we're here. What do I need to see?"

Castiel looked around as if trying to see something that wasn't there, "We must find her." He whispered, staring just too long at the vacant lot, Dean was trying to forget was there.

"Find who, Cas?" Sam asked, following his gaze.

Castiel's face transformed from confused to determined with one scowl. He marched off down the road toward a small diner. "She was here." He pointed as the Winchester's caught up.

"Who was here?" Dean huffed as he came to stand next to Castiel.

Castiel turned his gaze from the diner and glared at Dean. "You must see." He reminded.

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, but I don't _see_ anything."

Dean looked up and down the street with the diner. There was an old motel kitty corner from it. The 'O' on the lighted sign was out. The curtain from room thirteen shut quickly. Dean stared at it, expecting the door to open. Anything.

Xxx

Jo wrung her hair out in the towel as she looked out on the street. Carthage hadn't changed one bit. It was like Death had never even touched this town. She peered across the street at the small diner she had her first meal in.

Three men stood staring at the restaurant. The man in the middle wore a khaki trench coat. The memory of him taking shot after shot flooded her vision. She blinked her eyes clear as they settled on the man to his left. He turned and she yanked the curtains closed.

Her breath caught in her throat as her heart, she had long given up on beating again, hammered against her ribs. The man she had resigned to never see again was only feet away. She slid down the wall under the window and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Xxx

"We will wait." Castiel nodded toward the diner. "She will come." He crossed the parking lot and into the diner, taking a seat at a booth near the window.

Sam slapped his brother on the back. "Come on, maybe they have pie." He said in a vain attempt to cheer his older brother up.

"They better have pie." Dean grumbled as he followed Castiel's lead.

Xxx

"Cas, it's been hours," Dean whined for the fifth time. "Can't you just tell me what I'm supposed to see?"

"No." Castiel deadpanned as he searched the street outside the diner.

Dean huffed as he leaned back in the booth, his eyes immediately going to room thirteen at the motel across the street. He hadn't seen any movement since they arrived.

Dean couldn't explain it, but something in his gut was telling him that room was important. There was something behind that door that he needed to see.

But he was just being paranoid. It was just some random motel, and the only reason he was thinking about it was because they were in Carthage.

Jo would always pick room thirteen at motels. She would actually request it. Something with she thought it was cleaner because of people's superstitions. She thought less people would stay there. She must've known something because room thirteen was always vacant.

He rubbed his face to rid himself of the memories, but his eyes remained on that door.

Sam looked absentmindedly around the diner, sipping on his water through a straw, "Can we guess?"

Castiel turned his attention to Sam. His expression did not change.

"So it's a 'she', so it's human, right?"

Castiel gave a curt nod.

Dean tore his attention away from the motel and back to Castiel.

"Is it someone from a different timeline?" Sam asked, trying to narrow down the possibilities by eliminating the bigger ones.

Castiel shook his head.

"Alright." Sam leaned his elbows on the table, concentrating. "And it's someone we know?"

Castiel nodded.

Dean scoffed, "You know how many women I know?"

"Dean," Sam shushed his brother, "Is this person a civilian?"

Castiel did not nod, nor did he shake his head. He knew if he admitted too much it will result in breaking his promise.

"I'm going to take that as a 'no'." Sam concluded, as he turned in his seat toward his brother, "That just leaves a few options."

Dean stared back at room thirteen. In his heart he knew that only left one option. There was only one woman that it could be.

Dean immediately stood up from the booth and left the diner. He strode across the street, ignoring Sam's calls for him. He stomped his way down the row of motel rooms until he stopped at the one he had been staring at all day. He rose his fist and stilled himself before his knuckles hit the wood of the door.

He rested his palm gently over the painted numbers on the door, covering his mouth with his other hand.

What if it was her? What if she was real and this wasn't some cruel joke? What if she remembered? What if she hated him? Where has she been this whole time? The second the question popped in his mind, he knew. She was in Hell. His stomach rolled, threatening to bring up the pie, as he did the math in his head. Three hundred years. He backed away from the door, and rested his hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing.

Why didn't he look for her? Why didn't he know? He should have looked for her! The guilt of her death had rested heavily on his shoulders and the thought of her on the racks made his chest burn. He was going to have a heart attack, he was certain of it.

"Dean?" Sam galloped across the street and placed a comforting hand on his back, "Are you alright?"

Dean sat up straight turning his glare on Castiel. "Is it her?" He asked as he pointed to the motel room.

"You must see." Castiel urged.

"Where was she this whole time?" Dean demanded, although he was sure he knew the answer.

Castiel bowed his head, "I didn't think… I just assumed… She would go to Heaven."

Sam stared at the motel door with the number thirteen painted in white. Dean could practically hear the wheels turning in Sam's head. "Jo?" He whispered looking back to Dean.

Castiel continued to stare at the ground.

Sam looked back to the door in wonder, raising a fist and knocking gently.

Xxx

Jo could hear them arguing through the paper thin walls. She knew they were here. She knew that they wouldn't hurt her. _This is real_, she reminded herself.

Jo unraveled her arms from her legs as she stood. Her bones protesting at the movement as a gentle knock echoed in the room.

Jo's head whipped toward the door, immediately taking a defensive stance. She took a deep breath as she relaxed herself. _You're home now. Calm down._ She unclenched her fists and took a determined step toward the door.

Slowly she slid the chain off, and unlocked the dead bolt.

Xxx

Dean could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as the anticipation threatened to kill him. The chain sliding off the door echoed, he could almost picture her dainty fingers plucking it from the lock. The thump of the dead bolt pulled him from his day dream. The sun gleamed off of the door knob as it turned ever so slowly. Dean's pulse was pounding in his ears.

The door finally pulled open. She stood off to the side leaving plenty of room for them to enter. As if the silent invitation was unnecessary. All she was there for was to unlock the door.

Xxx

Jo stood off to the side of the door as she swung it open. The sun was all too bright, and to be perfectly honest, she didn't want to see him. She had built up his memory so many times in her mind she was petrified that she had changed him. She would be devastated to find out the man she had been loving for over three hundred years was a delusion.

Sam came through the door first, hovering over her with his height. He eyed her from top to bottom as he moved farther into the room. Castiel was next, Jo nodded her greeting to him as he passed.

Dean hadn't moved. Hands on his knees taking deep breaths.

Jo took a deep breath of her own and moved to stand in the door way. Meeting her brown eyes with his green. It was as if a lightning strike had gone off in between them. Something had changed and Jo knew there was no going back now.

Xxx

One after the other, Sam and Castiel left him in the parking lot, trying to steady his heart. When he finally allowed himself to look up there she was. No memory he had of her was embellished, no fantasy, the sound of her laughter still rang in his ears.

He stood to his full height, all the air returning to his lungs, his heart finally calming. She was real. She was here. Dean couldn't look away from her. There was nothing in the world he needed to see other than her. His whole life had just changed and he didn't feel the need to question it.

She moved to the side, gesturing for him to enter with the raising of one manicured brow.

Dean obeyed and entered the motel room.

Xxx

Jo shut the door behind Dean, turning the dead bolt and replacing the chain. She turned to face the group shoving her hands in her pockets, "Hey guys."

Dean scoffed, "'Hey guys'?" He threw his hands up in the air, the wonderment that was in his eyes now replaced by irritation. "What the hell, Jo?!"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Jo mimicked his actions. "I should have given you a heads up." She placed her hands on her hips, her words dripping in sarcasm.

"Did you know you would be risen?" Castiel asked curiously.

"No, of course not." Jo rolled her eyes pinching the bridge of her nose. "I have no idea why I'm here."

"How long have you been topside?" Sam asked sitting on the edge of the bed. The blankets were still ruffled from a fitful night of sleep.

"About a day and a half." Jo mumbled letting herself slump down in a chair near the door. "Came up about a quarter mile outside of town. Looked like a bomb had gone off. I had to dig my way out of the ground."

"We didn't bury you." Sam whispered.

"Yeah I figured that." Jo shrugged. "There wasn't a body to bury."

Dean physically cringed as he leaned against the dresser. He rubbed his hand over his face.

Jo watched the weariness on his face as he met her eyes.

Sam looked from Jo back to his brother, "Hey Cas, let's give them a minute."

Castiel nodded, content that he had finished his mission. He followed Sam back out into the parking lot.

Xxx

The door reverberated off the walls in the small motel room. Dean watched as Jo moved to sit on her hands, no doubt they were shaking. Just like his had when he was first back. "Drinking usually helps." He nodded toward her hands. "Keeps them from shaking, or you from noticing."

Jo nodded slowly, "Is that what you did?"

Dean sighed. "It's what I still do." He pushed off from the dresser and took an unsteady step toward her, "Jo if I knew where you were…"

Jo put a hand up to stop him. "I know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean knelt in front of her. "With Osiris? You could've told me."

Jo furrowed her brows, "And give you more guilt?" She sighed rolling her eyes, "Plus I was a bit busy concentrating on not killing you."

Dean reached for one of her hands, pulling it in both of his. "But you're here now."

Jo leaned closer to him, placing her other hand over his. "There's got to be a catch."

Dean bowed his head, resting his forehead on their joined hands. He stood pulling her to his chest, his hands going on either side of her face, before he crushed his lips on to hers.

"You're here." He whispered against her mouth.

Xxx

The seconds his lips hit hers, Jo's arms wrapped around his neck. The heat her heart had been pumping out coursed through her veins and colored her cheeks as his hands found her hips.

"You're here," He spoke against her lips.

"Yeah," She breathed, "I am." For the first time in centuries Jo felt like she was safe. Like she had a home, a shelter. As long as she was in Dean's arms, she was alive. She pulled back from him and rested her forehead against his, "Wanna get me out of here?"

Dean's chuckled rumbled against her chest, "You have no idea."

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**Hey guys, how'd you like it? Should I continue? Please review and let me know! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for reviewing and reading. And with the convincing [don't twist my arm ;)] of my wonderful reviewers, I have created a second chapter. I have a few ideas of where I want this to go, but who knows..**

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At the beginning of time, there was a collection of souls created to benefit the world. Each one had its own match and a path they were fated to follow. Throughout the centuries, some have found their match, and some have walked the world searching, waiting for that faithful day when they would once again be reunited.

Sometimes cupid was to get involved, pushing the two together. They were always destined, they just needed a helping hand.

In the case of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle, their destiny had been changed numerous times. Rewritten and reworked to suit the needs of archangels, and with Cupid on strict orders to butt out, it seemed as if the pair would never find the right time or place.

"Father," The angel followed his gaze as the two souls vacated the motel room. "Why are you so fascination with these two?"

"Look." The man smiled sweetly as he pointed at the three reunited hunters. "Don't the Winchester's deserve some happiness? Have they not earned it?"

The angel nodded slowly, "Yes, father, I suppose."

The man turned his attention back to the hunters, "This reunion brings me great joy."

The angel nodded slowly, trying to comprehend his father's logic. "I'm sorry, I just don't understand. Why raise the girl from perdition? She was destined to die," He argued.

The man looked down at his son with raised eyebrows. "Or was she?" He looked back at the blonde below. "I don't believe Ms. Harvelle is quite done yet."

xxx

Jo sat silently in the front seat of the Impala as the corn fields passed her by. A blur of beige and greens passed by her eyes without Jo really ever seeing them. Classic rock and roll filtered through the old speakers, crackling softly around the bass of the songs. No one spoke.

Castiel sat in the back seat staring at the back of Jo's head. She could feel his eyes burning a hole into her. "What Cas?" She snapped turning in her seat to look at him. "You've been staring at me for an hour."

Dean watched the angel in his rear view mirror, his eyes darting from Jo back to Castiel.

Castiel stared at her, cocking his head to the side, clearly intrigued by her behavior.

"Why don't you go find out why I'm here?" Jo suggested in a tone she reserved for chastising small children.

Castiel gave a curt nod before he disappeared without a word.

Jo sighed turning back around in her seat, wringing her hands in her lap. She kept feeling like the floor was going to drop out below her and she would be right back on the rack any second now.

"So," She cleared her throat. "Where are we going?" She asked, trying to distract herself from her thoughts.

Dean scratched the back of his neck, "You remember Rufus' old hunting cabin?"

"Yeah," Jo nodded. "Why don't we just go to Bobby's?" She asked looking up at Dean.

"Bobby…" He took a deep breath. "Bobby died. And the house is gone."

"Oh." Jo looked back out the window. She stared out at the blurred images along the road.

She wanted to cry for Bobby. Feel any sort of sorrow, any kind of heartache, for the man she once knew. But that was centuries ago, and those were feelings she had buried long ago.

Xxx

"It's not much," Dean said swinging the door to the cabin open and ushering Jo inside. "But we call it home."

Jo nodded looking around the small cabin. A small kitchenette to the right, a red couch with ductaped arms to the left, and a raised make-shift bedrooms housed a bunk bed and a small twin bed against the back wall.

Sam opened the fridge whistling at the empty shelves. "I'm gonna go make a food run. Jo, do you want anything?"

Jo shook her head as she ran her hand along the back of the worn couch. She stopped in front of the wall with newspaper clippings and old case files hanging from thumb tacks. She placed her hands on her hips as she surveyed each piece of paper.

"Dean?" Sam pulled his brother's attention from the small blonde, "Beer?"

"Yes, a lot." Dean nodded, tossing him the keys to the Impala.

Sam gave him a tight smile before he closed the door to the cabin behind him.

Dean watched as Jo picked at the papers on the wall, lifting some to see others underneath.

"So," Jo turned to face him slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. "What did I miss?"

Dean walked around to the front of the couch and fell into one of the worn cushions. "Well, that's a long story." Dean ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Jo dropped her hands to her sides, moving to sit in the old leather chair near the TV. "I got plenty of time." Jo shrugged, leaning back in the chair.

Dean gave her a weary smile, lifting one leg to rest on the coffee table. "Well, the colt didn't work, uhm, Sam said 'yes'."

Jo bowed her head sheepishly. "Yeah, I know."

Dean's brows furrowed. "How?"

Jo shook her head, "You know how people in the pit talk."

Dean nodded, picking at a blood blister on his hand. "Yeah. Listen Jo."

"Dean." Jo warned him, putting up a hand to stop his words. "Don't. You didn't know. I'm here now. It's okay."

"It's not okay." Dean argued.

Jo laughed sardonically, shaking her head, "No, it's not." She agreed with him. "What happened next?"

Dean sighed consenting to her request. "Sam was able to get Lucifer back in the pit. Then I retired for a year."

"What was her name?" Jo asked cocking her head to the side. That old flirtatious smirk gracing her lips.

Dean chuckled, "How do you know there was a woman?"

Jo put her elbows on the arm of the chair, chuckling lightly as she leaned forward, "There's always a woman."

Dean eyed Jo carefully. "Lisa. Her name was Lisa."

"Did you love her?"

Dean stared out the window, contemplating the answer. "Yes? No?" He turned back to Jo, the sight of her squeezing his heart like a vise, "I thought I did."

"And now?"

"No." Dean gave a resolute shake of his head.

Jo met his gaze unwaveringly.

She reminded him of a child solider. Exterior made of steel. An undeniable air of confidence surrounded her body. She was strong and callous.

Everything about her shouted that she had been through the absolute worst horrors.

And survived.

This was not the school-girl version of Jo, the one that Dean had known, remembered, fantasized about. This woman had seen too many evils to ever be that girl again.

Her back was tense and rigid, constantly on the defense. She was a caged animal. She nodded for him to continue.

"Uh, Sam came back, without a soul. Did you know that?"

Jo shrugged.

Dean made a mental note to revisit that question at a later date before he continued again. "We, uh, got it back though."

Jo nodded.

"I suppose you knew that too."

Jo bowed her head as she tangled her fingers together.

"Well, then Cas decided to go all nuclear and eat all the souls in Purgatory. He exploded in a river and let all of the Leviathans go. Which is what shot Bobby."

Jo's eyes widened as he continued.

"Don't worry Cas is good now. He fixed Sam's brain after he broke it." Dean waved off Jo's confused look. "I told you this was a long story."

Jo shook her head, dismissing his last comment, "Keep going."

"We took out the Leviathans and it sucked me and Cas into Purgatory for a year. And then a couple of months ago I got out, then Cas not long after that."

"Wow." Jo leaned back in her chair again. "You've been busy."

Dean shrugged, "Never a dull moment with the Winchester's."

Jo picked at a hangnail on her finger. It looked as if she was very far away.

Dean wanted more than anything to wrap his arms around her and never let go. "You want to talk about it?"

Jo looked up with a smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes, "Dean Winchester volunteering to talk about someone's feelings?" She joked. "No thanks."

"I've been there Jo." Dean tried.

"Forty years pales in comparison, Dean." Jo whispered as she continued to pick at her nail nonchalantly.

Dean could see her hands beginning to shake.

"Why didn't it work out?" Jo shook out her hands, "Between you and Lisa." She pursed her lips, as if bracing herself for the answer.

"That's what you want to talk about?" Dean chuckled as Jo nodded, "Alright, uh, I don't know. She was a civilian. She hated the life."

"Bitch," Jo joked shaking her head.

"Eh, it's not all her fault," Dean reasoned. "I wasn't a peach to live with, that's for sure."

"You're hunter. It's who you are. That's not your fault either." Jo persuaded. As a hunter herself, she held a certain respect for the profession. She loved her job. It in her blood just as much, if not more, as it was in Dean's.

Dean watched her brown eyes dance, a sight he never thought he would see alive again. "I've missed you Jo."

Jo smiled tightly. She wanted to tell him she missed him too, that she thought of him every day. That he was one of the few reasons she didn't lose her sanity in the pit. "Me too." Was all she could manage.

Xxx

Jo sucked adoringly on her fingers. Ridding them of any and all leftover cheese powder. She savored every Cheetos that past her lips. Sighing, finally content when the bag was empty, she stretched out on the small couch. "That was delicious!" She exclaimed, pulling at her sore muscles. She sat up and turned toward the small table and chairs that Dean and Sam now occupied. "Thank you Sam."

"You're welcome." Sam met Jo's gaze clearly saying more with his eyes then he could speak at the moment.

Jo shook her head ever so slightly.

Sam bowed his head and continued to pick at his salad.

Thankfully Dean was too engaged in his burger to notice the exchange.

The flutter of wings turned all three hunter's heads toward the raised bedroom in the back. Castiel looked a little disheveled. His coat was wrinkled, his tie loosened more than usual. The top button of his shirt was undone.

"Cas, are you alright?" Dean asked, turning completely in his chair.

Castiel looked around the room until his eyes finally landed on Jo. "I promise you I looked everywhere." He stumbled down the steps toward Jo. "It seems it is confidential information."

Jo was unable to cover her disappointment with his information. "That's alright." She mumbled taking a gulp of her beer.

Castiel took a tentative step toward her, "I did learn that it was you that had alerted Crowley to Sam's whereabouts."

"What?!" Dean choked on his burger.

Castiel turned toward Dean, "In Hell." He clarified, "She protected him."

"Stop!" Jo yelled from the couch. "Just stop!"

"You protected him?" Dean whispered. "How?"

Jo brows furrowed as she twisted her shaking hands together, "I didn't do anything. He was still with me for a hundred fifty years. I didn't protect anybody." Her shoulders were squared and her whole body was shaking.

Jo shoved herself off the couch, wrenching open the front door and slamming it behind her.

"She protected you?" Dean turned to his younger brother.

"I only remember what happened before Crowley got me, but yeah, she did. She took a lot of beatings for me." Sam bowed his head in shame.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean threw his burger down on its wrapper. The anger boiling in his chest.

"Dean, you gotta know, Lucifer put a lot of visions in my head." He held up his hands, trying to hold Dean's anger at bay. "For a long time, I didn't know if she was real." Sam pleaded for his brother to believe him.

Dean could plainly see the sincerity in his brother's eyes, a telltale sign that he was telling the truth. "Fine. What happened when Crowley got you?"

"I was being tortured, and she wouldn't stop screaming for them to stop. She wouldn't stop fighting the demons restraining her." Sam bowed his head at the memory. "She killed five of them before they chained her and cut her vocal chords. She got out of the chains and draped herself over me. They had to cut into her to get to me."

"A selfless act is like an alarm going off in Hell. It is highly unusual." Castiel offered.

"Why would they put her in the cage with you?" Dean wondered out loud trying to piece together Jo's history.

"To torture me, I guess." Sam shrugged. His eyes glazed over rethinking those first few days in the cage.

"I can't believe you never told me that," Dean sighed rubbing his hand over his face.

"Dude, if I thought there was any possibility that it was real, I would have." Sam slouched his shoulders glancing at the closed front door.

Dean felt the familiar magnetic pull forcing his gaze to follow Sam's. His mind flooded with the memory of Jo and his first kiss.

The stench of blood filled his nose as all the words he wanted to say died on his lips. In that one kiss he had seen their wedding day, their children's faces, and hers, all gray and wrinkly. He would have grown old with her if he had the chance. Or at least try to, given their profession.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, "Earth to Dean."

"Yeah," Dean shook his head, "What's up?"

"I was saying, you should talk to her." Sam shrugged.

"And say what?" Dean started wrapping up the remains of his lunch in the discarded wrapper. "She's not the warm and fluffy Jo that we knew."

Sam snorted, "She was never warm and fluffy." Sam helped his brother clean the table. The presence of a guest filling the boys with the unnecessary need to clean up after themselves. Jo was not the type of girl to care if the carpet was vacuumed. "She's the same Jo, she's just a bit rougher around the edges."

Xxx

Jo buried her face in her hands. She had nowhere to go, nowhere she could possibly hide.

She was given special treatment after what she did with Sam. She had begged and pleaded for them to let her off the rack. To give her the same option they were giving everyone else. "Please, please," She would sob. In turn they would just laugh or ignore her completely.

Naked and scarred they hung her on the racks for years not touching her. Not even sparing her a glance. They let the anticipation build for a full decade before they ripped into her skin. That's when Sam showed up.

"No," she croaked, her throat rough with neglect, "You were saved." Jo blinked at him, praying that it was a hallucination.

Sam shook his head, "I'm sorry." He reached for the pliers on the stainless steel table.

Jo shut her eyes nodding. "It's okay." She knew what would happen next.

She refused to scream. Refused to make any sound at all. Jo would not give them the satisfaction and Sam was careful to only afflict an amount of pain he knew she could handle.

Three days of a constant dull pain dragged on, until they pulled Sam out of the room.

"Thank you," Jo wheezed, the shallow cuts on her ribs sent a jolt of pain up her sides as she spoke.

Sam looked over his shoulder at her, taking in his handiwork, memorizing it. If he could, she knew he would make it up to her, somehow. He nodded meeting her gaze, and left.

Jo had seen him a few times after that, but that was the last time they spoke.

Chained to a wall, her blood forming a puddle on the granite floors, Sam tracing the scars the hellhounds had made with a scalpel. The memory of the concentration etched on his face was the last she had of her friend.

The door to the cabin swinging open pulled Jo effectively out of her thoughts. She whirled around, her whole body immediately rigid.

Dean held his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, it's just me."

Jo relaxed her arms, although her shoulders were still poised for a quick attack.

"Sam doesn't remember much about the cage. So we won't talk about it anymore." Dean promised. "Not unless you bring it up first."

Jo nodded accepting his terms.

Dean stepped over the dead dry brush engulfing the small porch, stopping a few feet from Jo. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He spoke slowly in a soft voice.

"I can take care of myself Dean." Jo growled.

"No one's denying that, sweetheart." Dean took a tentative step toward her. "Just let me do it for a while."

Jo eyed him suspiciously. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to protect her. Jo knew he felt the guiltiest about her death, but she didn't want to be his punishment. The penance he would have to pay. Jo met his hopeful gaze with her own cold, regal stare, "We find out why I'm here, and fight what needs to be fought, then I'm gone."

Dean was visibly taken aback by her words. Even stumbling back, kicking up dust from the dry Earth. "You don't have to. You could stay…as long as you want." He added as if it was an afterthought.

Jo watched him shove his hands in his pockets, the uncertainty of the moment clearly making him uncomfortable. A part of her wanted to reach out to him, reassure him. Drop her guard like she had last night. Wrap herself up in his arms like there was no care in the world. But here? In the front yard of Rufus' ram-shackle cabin? Memories of hell still debilitating her? She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the anticipation of something horrible about to happen. Jo just could not allow herself to get that close. The paralyzing fear of complete devastation kept her rooted to the ground. "It's just not the right time," She mumbled.

"But it could be the place?" Dean asked hopefully, ducking his head to catch her gaze as he took a step toward her.

Jo blinked up at him, a rush of a thousand different memories flashed before her. The end of a rifle against a leather jacket, the scabs on her knuckles from a well-practiced right hook against a man's stone-like jaw. The inconsolable shouts of her name muffled through the dry wall of an old building. The promise of later, and the last taste on her lips. Desperation and that morning's coffee. The last wish of a dying girl fulfilled.

She shook her head, reminding her heart to forget about it. "I don't think so," She whispered, bowing her head, hoping he wouldn't hear the falseness in her voice.

Dean rocked back and forth on his feet, staring up at the sky. A flock of geese flew overhead, heading south for the upcoming winter. He rubbed his jaw, trying in vain to rid it of a phantom pain he acquired a long time ago.

Dean wasn't as dumb as he looked, he and Jo were just too similar for him not to know what she was doing. He looked down at the broken woman in front of him, the wind whipped the ends of her hair around her face, and he vowed in that moment that he would never again let her know pain. There was nothing in this world that could keep Jo from him now.

He sighed at his own stupidity. She was right in front of him the whole time.

"Well," Dean exhaled, "I think it is." He hooked a thumb back toward the cabin, before he turned to go back inside. "Come on, Harvelle."

* * *

**So? How'd you like it? Please let me know, just scroll down a little bit more. Type up a little something-something and click review. Done. Then I'm happy, and write faster, and your happy because I post more lol. **

**Again thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Whoops! Here's the real chapter 3... sorry. **

* * *

"Castiel, I've been waiting for you." The man said absently as he watched a blonde hunter's fitful night sleep.

"Father," Castiel bowed his head in respect. "It was you? You brought Jo back?"

The man shook his head sadly, as he looked to his son. "I am just righting the wrongs of my children."

Castiel took a timid step toward his father, "But, I saw her destiny." He argued.

"You saw the version your brother, Michael, wanted you to see." The man spit, "there is only one path Joanna Harvelle was meant to follow. You of all people should know that." He pointed a disappointed finger at his son.

Castiel bowed his head in shame. "I did not think they were fated for this life." He raised a challenging gaze to his father. "Without out the guidance of a father, I was left with the assumption that Michael was correct."

The man sighed, looking back to the small blonde. "I had lost faith in mankind. But the Winchester's…" He paused as if the answer was in his silence. He looked back to his son with raised eyebrows. "They have caught my attention."

Castiel looked down at Jo, her brows furrowed, her forehead beading with sweat. She tossed and turned against the nightmares she was sure to be having.

The man followed his son's gaze, sighing, "Watch over them Castiel. Do not tell them we spoke. The answers they seek will appear in due time."

xxx

The stench of decay was one that Jo had grown used to. She couldn't pick out the smell anymore unless a draft wafted it toward her. The chains dung into the raw and bleeding skin on her wrists as Meg leaned into Jo's ear.

Meg's hot breath fanned across Jo's flayed flesh, "You are just another pretty souvenir of one of my kills now." She placed a wet kiss to Jo's cheek. "Nothing more."

Jo's heart faltered as her eyes shot open. Gasping for air she sat up on the old couch. She blinked rapidly trying to recall her surroundings. Couch, Rufus' cabin, water. Jo groped for the glass on the coffee table, before chugging its contents.

She put her bare feet on the cold hardwood floor, resting her elbows on her knees. She felt wrong being here. She couldn't shake off the extreme urge to crawl out of her own skin. Every sound made her jump, every quick movement put her on edge. And every so often Dean would worm his way into her brain.

_But it could be the place,_ Dean's voice echoed in her ears as she tried to steady the rapid beating of her heart. She shook her head trying to dispel any thoughts of him out of her mind. It could not be the place. She couldn't get her hands to stop shaking, she couldn't get memories of hell to stop for even a day. How could she be with him? She was not the girl he remembered and she was broken beyond repair. She wouldn't be any good for anyone. Least of all Dean.

Xxx

Dean was awoken by the sudden gasping for air from across the room. His eyes sprung open, immediately knowing that it was Jo. He fought to stay in bed, to keep his distance. His fists clenched the sheets in his hand.

He rolled over on the bed, so that he could get a better view of her. She sat on the couch panting, as her elbows rested on her knees, her head in her hands. Her fingers clawed through her long hair, as she sat up straighter.

Xxx

She could feel his eyes boring into her. Jo looked over her shoulder to see Dean blinking back at her in the darkness. "I'm sorry." She whispered, trying not to wake Sam.

Dean sat up and shrugged. "I was already awake."

"You don't have to lie." Jo chastised.

Dean leaned his elbows on his knees. "You don't have to apologize." He countered.

Jo turned her attention back to her shaking hands. She could hear the bed creak as Dean rose, his feet padded against the wood flooring as he made his way to the fridge.

Jo shielded her eyes from the sudden light, only to have Dean standing in front of her as soon as she lowered her arm, holding out a bottle of beer.

"Thanks," She croaked as she accepted the bottle.

Dean raised his bottle in a mock cheers before he twisted off the top and took a swig. He placed the bottle on the coffee table before he eased himself into one of the chairs near the couch. "Nightmare?" He asked, reaching for his bottle.

Jo took a deep gulp of beer. "You could say that."

"We can talk about it if you want?" Dean's voice began to waver as if he wasn't quite sure what he should say.

"No." Jo took a few more gulps.

Dean took a swig of his own beer watching her wearily. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Just did." Jo polished off rest of her beer and handed it to Dean, "More, please." She whispered wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Dean rolled his eyes, taking her empty bottle and retrieved her a new one, bringing an extra for himself. He eased himself back in the chair, taking a thoughtful swig. "Your mom?"

Jo twisted the top off her second beer, "Nope." She took two swings. "She wasn't marked by hellhounds." She answered his unasked question. "She's safe, or so I like to think." Jo picked at the label of the bottle, suddenly very interested in it.

"I'm sorry." Dean whispered, cocking his head so he could see through the curtain of her hair.

Jo pushed her hair behind her ears looking up at him. "It's not your fault. I was in love and stupid," She shrugged nonchalantly. The alcohol clearly getting quicker than she thought it would.

"Love?" Dean practically mouthed the words, his voice barely a whisper, as his eyebrows raised in shock.

"Well," Jo pointed at him with her beer bottle, "I could have." She took another few gulps.

Dean chuckled softly regaining some of his swagger back, "Yeah, took me awhile to see that."

"You think?" Jo raised her eyebrows at him as she finished off her second beer. She reached over the coffee table and grabbed Dean's spare.

He smiled at her wistfully as she drank from the bottle as if she was dying of thirst.

She lowered the bottle and returned his gaze, "What?"

Dean shook his head, leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees, "You're not gonna go back there. I'm not going to let anything happen."

Jo rolled her eyes letting her shoulders slump. "You keep saying that." She let her weary and tired gaze meet his. "You of all people should know, you can't promise something like that." The alcohol set her blood on fire. Her tolerance nonexistent from her three years in hell. She couldn't stop the words that were spilling out of her mouth. Then again, she couldn't decide whether or not she cared.

Dean sat back in the chair, letting the thought sink in.

Jo twirled her beer in the half empty bottle, "My dad promised my mom, your dad promised you." She took a quick swig, before adding. "You promised me once."

Dean blinked up at her, his eyes pooling with guilt and pity. She knew the implications of the words she had just let slip were that of Dean's worst fear. She didn't blame him, truly, she didn't. Jo was just miserable, and for some sick reason, she wanted to bring him down to her level.

She waved him off, rolling her eyes. Jo downed the rest of the beer, "I'm an angry drunk." She offered as a small apology.

Dean sighed rubbing his hands over his face. "I just want you to know that you're safe here." He leaned forward in the chair, "I know how you're feeling. Like the bottom's going to fall out? Like at any moment they're going to pull you right back in the pit?"

Jo's brows furrowed, the fire the alcohol provided slowly simmered.

"It fades."

Jo played with the label on the bottle. "And the nightmares?"

Dean slouched back into the chair, "No, less frequent, but they're always there."

Jo put the bottle down on the table and rubbed her eyes with her palms, sighing. "I can't close my eyes without seeing it." She turned to look at him, her brown eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I can't make it stop, Dean." It must have been the alcohol that made her do it, but she couldn't hold it in anymore.

Her shoulders shook with sobs as Jo wrapped her arms around herself as if to try and hold them in.

Dean jumped out of the chair and was next to her on the couch in seconds of the first tear drop. He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her to his chest. He rubbed soothing circles on her back, whispering words of comfort in her ear. "It's okay, you're safe here. I'm here. It's okay."

Jo wrapped her arms around his neck, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. She couldn't calm herself down, and she was petrified of the thought that she might never stop crying.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Please," He begged, "I lo…"

Jo pulled back to look at him, fresh tear tracks, and wide eyes. That beginning of a sentence was all she needed to catch her breath. "What?"

"What?" Dean mimicked her.

Jo arched on of her eyebrows.

Dean smirked at her, "You calmed down."

Jo wiped at the moisture on her face. Her breathing steadied. "Yeah," She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

Dean patted her thigh, placed her on the couch next to him. "You should get some sleep."

Jo nodded her head slowly, leaning over to rest her head on the pillow.

Dean pushed himself off the couch, and pulled the blanket over Jo. He reached over and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Night Jo." He whispered as he turned to walk back to the bunk beds.

"Dean?" Jo called out with uncertainty. "Will you…" She bit on her lip not wanting to say the words, but needing the result of them like she needed air to breath.

Dean turned around to look at her, she could see in his eyes that he would do anything for her in that one look.

She took a deep breath. "Could you…" She tried again, failing.

Dean nodded, "Yeah," He moved back toward the couch, "Sit up a minute."

She sat up and he took the pillow away, sitting down in its place. He opened his arms and motioned for her to come closer, "Come on."

Jo hesitated for just a second, before she allowed herself to be wrapped up in Dean's arms. She closed her eyes and tried to time her breathing with the beating of Dean's heart.

Xxx

The sun beat down on the drought ridden earth as Sam pushed around pebbles with his shoe. "I don't know man, I think your timing might be off."

Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Well, obviously. But I'm telling you, I'm not letting that girl out of my sight this time."

Sam sighed running a hand through his hair, "Alright, all I'm saying is that we should get back out there. We can bring her with us."

Dean shook his head, "No, she's not ready."

Sam rolled his eyes, "How do you know?" He shook his head, "How long was it before you got back in the game?" He asked, pointing a finger for emphasis.

Dean shook his head trying to recall the actual number of days. "I don't know, a couple days or so?"

"See? Don't you think that maybe, just maybe, seeing as she's a hunter too, that she would want to, oh I don't know, hunt?!"

Dean glared up at his younger brother, "Okay, I see your point." He looked over at the closed front door of the cabin and back at Sam, "Just give me a couple more days, alright?"

"I thought you'd say that." Sam sighed, "How about this? You guys meet me out there."

Dean's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Jo's got enough on her plate without me here to remind her. And I don't remember what she remembers." Sam ran a nervous hand through his hair. "When you're ready to let her out of the house, we'll all meet somewhere." Sam could see the reluctance on Dean's face. He rolled his eyes, "I'll tell you where I am every day."

"You got a place in mind?" Dean eyed his brother wearily.

"Garth called, he said he might need a little help with some vamps in Utah." Sam shrugged. "I was thinking about checking it out."

Dean chuckled, "You're that desperate to get out of here?"

"Getting pretty close." Sam shoved his hands in his pockets shrugging.

Dean weighed the options in his head, as he shifted his weight back and forth on the balls feet. "Alright, but I want a text every day." He pointed a finger at his chest.

Sam waved him off, "Yeah, yeah." He turned toward the back of the cabin where they kept Rufus' old truck. "I'll take the truck."

"Yeah you will." Dean looked back at the Impala, rubbing the hood affectionately. "Don't worry baby. He won't touch you."

Sam shook his head, grabbing his duffel bag from the backseat. He waved goodbye, as he disappeared behind the cabin. Dean could hear the old truck trying to start up as Dean reached the porch.

Xxx

Jo would know the sound of that old truck anywhere. She rode around in it for three months. The lazy hum interrupted periodically with the thump of something not quite aligning right. "She's just saying 'hi'," Rufus would say rubbing the dashboard like it was a beloved pet.

Rufus and Dean were the only two men that she knew that kept the same car. And loved it as if it was their own child. Although Dean's was much more aesthetically pleasing.

Every time Dean was brought up in conversation, Rufus would shake his head at Jo's brightened eyes. He would smack his lips and hum disapprovingly, "You can't tame a wild dog."

Jo cocked her head to look out the grim covered window. She could just make out Sam driving by in Rufus' truck. _Where is Rufus?_ She looked around the room as if she had missed something. She knew that Bobby was gone, but was Rufus.

Jo's head whipped around to the sound of the front door opening. Her grip tightened instinctually around the knife in her hand.

"Whoa," Dean held his hands up in surrender, seeing the knife. "It's just me."

Jo loosened her grip and went back to eating her eggs. "Where's Rufus?" She asked around a mouthful of breakfast.

Dean took a seat across the small dining table. "Rufus died."

Jo nodded, taking a bite of her toast. She took a sip of her coffee before continuing her interrogation. "Where's Sam going?"

Dean leaned his elbows on the table. "He's going to help Garth on a hunt."

"Garth is still alive?" Jo asked incredulously, "How's Garth still alive, and Bobby and Rufus is are dead?"

Dean shook his head chuckling, "Beats the shit out of me." He reached over grabbing a piece of bacon off Jo's plate, stuffing it in his mouth faster then she could stop him. "How do you know Garth?"

"He and Ash were friends." Jo shrugged, "He would come into the Roadhouse sometimes." She shoveled a fork full of eggs into her mouth. "How did Rufus die?"

Dean rubbed a hand over his face, "Uh, Bobby kind of stabbed him. But Bobby was possessed when it happened…" He trailed off shrugging. "We buried him in a Jewish cemetery with a bottle of Johnny Walker."

Jo let a small smile grace her lips at the thought of Rufus, "He would have liked that." She took another bite of her toast, her thoughts slowly drifting back to the present. "Why didn't you go with Sam?"

Dean's brows knitted together, "I'm not going to leave you here by yourself."

"Why didn't we all go then?" She asked, ripping off a small piece of bacon and popping it in her mouth.

"I thought you could use a couple days." Dean shook his head, leaning back in the chair he crossed his arms over his chest, "I don't know, give you time to acclimate?"

Jo rolled her eyes, "I'm fine, Dean."

He leaned his elbows on the table quickly, causing Jo to tense. "Yeah, and that's why you jump every time someone comes into a room, or moves, or makes a sound." Dean eyed the knife in her hand, "You know that this cabin is miles from anyone, it's not even on a map. You can't even get mail here. Fuck, it's bobby-trapped to high heaven. But you still readied a weapon when I walked in the door. You knew it could only be me or Sam. But you're fine." Dean argued.

"Alright," Jo spit, as she glared at him from across the table, "I get it, alright. So, what are you going to do? Ease me into civilian life?" Her words oozed sarcasm and condescension.

"Yeah," Dean nodded absolutely, "That is exactly what I'm going to do."

Jo nibbled on her bottom lip, debating her options. She could run, knowing full well that it was just a matter of time before he found her. Or she could stay. She met his gaze with a silent agreement. "What are you planning?"

Dean smiled, clearly smug that she was playing along with his plan, "We'll take it slow. How about we go for a walk today?"

Jo eyed him suspiciously. "You wanna go for a walk?"

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, why not?"

Jo pushed her left over eggs around her plate, "I don't know, I just never pictured you as the 'walk' kind of guy."

"Come on," Dean urged, "Then we can come back and watch TV all day."

Xxx

It was a picturesque autumn day. The leaves were just starting to turn a light yellow, the wind off the mountains providing a tolerable chill.

The path Dean led Jo down was worn, the dirt dry and cracked. "They haven't had rain in a while." Dean mentioned off handedly. They had been walking for a good five minutes in silence and it was the first thing he could think of. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as Jo shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. "So, is there anything you want to do?"

Jo pursed her lips, "I need a change of clothes."

"We can go to a store?" Dean suggested.

Jo nodded slowly, stopping suddenly, "What month is it?"

"It's September."

"Okay," Jo nodded again and continued walking. "My storage locker is up in December. All my stuffs there."

Dean nodded, gesturing to the left as they reached the fork in the path. "We can go there if you want?"

"Tomorrow?" Jo looked up at him hopefully.

"Let's see how you do at the store first." He laughed, putting an arm around her shoulders and dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Jo pouted the rest of the way back to the house.

* * *

**SO I hope you liked the REAL Chapter 3. Sorry if you caught my earlier blunder, and thank you very much Silverspoon for letting me know. Probably never would have caught that. **

**Please, please, tell me what you thought. You know the drill, leave me a review, pleeeeaase! **

**Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you like it! ;]**

* * *

She crossed her arms over her chest as her and Dean made their way back to the house. Whatever he thought she was doing, she was not pouting. Jo knew she was being a brat, but then again, she had just spent the last three years in hell. She was allotted a bit of whining.

Dean held the door of the cabin open for her with a self-satisfied grin. Jo glared at him as she entered the house and plopped herself on the couch.

Dean grabbed a few beers out of the fridge and joined her. "Alright," He said reaching for the remote, "What kind of trash can we watch?" He flipped through the channels until he found a marathon of an old sitcom Jo had never heard of.

She nuzzled herself into the corner of the couch cushion, nursing a beer as she watched the characters on screen without really comprehending what was going on in the show. Jo was lost in her own thoughts. Combing through her memories, for anything before Hell. She had held them safe and at the forefront of her mind during her stint down below, but now she was finding it hard to recall them. The memory of her father's face was now faded, the color of her mother's hair, she knew was duller in her memory than it was in real life. Even Ash's laugh was hard for her to recall.

She shook her head trying to clear her mind, but her eyes landed on Dean. Jo's mind began to whirl with thoughts and memories. She studied him, cocking her head to categorize how he had changed. His jaw line was stronger, more defined. He stared at the TV in a permanent scowl, his forehead never relaxing. She had to restrain herself from reaching out and smoothing out the skin there. Her gaze drifted down to his lips, her mind racing to their kiss the other night, then speeding to a stop at their first kiss. Painfully slow and tender, overflowing with regret. Jo couldn't help but think it was only because she was dying. "Why did you kiss me?"

Dean's head snapped in her direction, "What?"

"In Carthage, the first time." Jo clarified, "Why did you kiss me?"

Dean turned the TV down, "I… uh… Well I…" He tripped over his words trying to figure out a way to phrase whatever it was he was trying to say.

"Was it because I was dying?" Jo pushed.

Dean furrowed his brows, "Well, yeah," At the disappointment on Jo's face he clarified, "but not completely. Sure, it made me do it, but isn't why." He defended himself.

Jo studied him as he turned the TV off entirely.

Dean sighed as he slouched back in the couch, "Why are you asking this?"

Jo shrugged, pulling her knees to her chest, "Just curious."

Dean returned her gaze, searching here face, before he whispered. "I wanted to. Why did you kiss me back?"

Jo stared down at her knobby knees, drawing lazy patterns with one of her nails, "I wanted to." She whispered.

Dean nodded smiling down at her sweetly. "I know." He chuckled lightly, as Jo kicked out her leg toward him, which he easily grabbed.

Jo pulled her leg out of his grasp, "Shut up." She mumbled trying to hide her smile.

Dean's heart squeezed at the glow on her face. Jo wrapped her arms around her legs once more, pulling herself as far away from him as she could. Dean frowned at the distance between them, but he would wait forever for her. He knew down to the core of his being that she was meant for him. He reached over to turn the TV back on, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you have more questions?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

Jo glared at him, "Yes."

Dean turned the TV back off, smiling he turned to face her, gesturing for her to continue, "By all means."

"What happened to Sam when he got his soul back?"

Dean sighed, "That's what you want to know?"

Jo nodded.

"Fine." Dean rubbed the back of his neck with one of his hands, "He would still see Lucifer. His soul was so badly damaged that he went crazy. He couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. It really affected him, so he was committed. That's when Cas came looking for penance. So he took on his crazy. And stayed for him in the hospital."

Jo's brows knitted together, "You left an angel in a mental hospital?"

Dean looked away, clearly not telling her something. "He didn't stay very long."

Jo shook her head in disbelief. "Wow."

"Yeah." Dean sighed, "You know, I'm surprised you're not a drooling mess right now."

Jo nodded, "Yeah, me too actually."

"Whoever brought you up must've had some juice."

"You're telling me, I don't have any scars, I'm not crazy as far as I can tell," Jo listed. "I'm brand spankin' new, with a little PTSD."

"Considering?" Dean put his hands out weighing the situation, "I'd say you got off a bit easy."

Jo shook her head, "We don't know that yet."

Dean reluctantly nodded, "Yeah, but Cas is on the job. He'll find out what's going on."

"So we just sit here and wait?" Jo asked with a little bit more attitude then she meant.

"For right now, yeah." Dean nodded. "We got nothing to go on Jo."

Jo sat quietly trying to remember anything that might help.

"Do we have something Jo?" Dean asked slowly, his brows knitting together as he examined her face.

Jo pursed her lips. "Maybe?" She shook her head, "Maybe not. All I remember is a bright light." She stared at the tread in the couch, hoping she could see her memory play out there. She could almost make out a face, but it was shrouded in that white light.

"Well that's something." Dean encouraged her.

"It's not enough," Jo disagreed.

"When Cas shows up again, we'll tell him. Maybe he's found something out that will help." Dean reached out and patted her foot reassuringly.

Dean watched as Jo worried on her bottom lip. In his mind, it didn't matter to him who brought her back. What mattered was that she was back and there wasn't anything in this world that could take her from him again.

Xxx

"Father?" Castiel's voice echoed off the walls of the large room.

"Yes, my son?"

"They are going to want answers."

The man smiled wistfully, "Yes, I suppose they will. They would not be the Winchester's if they did not."

"What should I tell them?"

"Tell them an angel answered their prayers."

Cas shook his head slightly, "You know they will not accept that."

The man chuckled, "Of course they won't." The man looked down at the couple below. "Look at him." He smiled down at the hunters. "He's determined." He turned back to his son, "He won't let her go this time."

Castiel's brows knitted together. "Father?"

"Tell them you could not find anything." He turned back to look down at the hunters on the couch. "It is imperative that they do not have any outside influences."

Castiel nodded reluctantly.

Xxx

Jo stared out the window of the Impala at the imposing building. People filed in and out at a rapid pace, as her heart began to do the same.

"I could find a less crowded store." Dean suggested, following her gaze.

Jo took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she shook her head. "No, it's gotta happen sooner or later."

Dean reached across her and pulled a prescription bottle out of the glove box. "Here," He said as he held out a small white pill to her, "Take this if you get antsy in there." He nodded toward the large store.

"What is it?" Jo asked taking the pill in between her fingers.

"It's an anti-anxiety, Meg gave them to me when Cas fixed Sam. Just in case he had a freak out."

"Meg?" Jo hissed, the pill fell from her fingers as her hands clenched into fists, "As in the demon Meg? As in the demon that sicked the hellhounds on us that killed me?!" Her voice rose with every word. "What are you friends, now?!"

Dean at least had the decency to look ashamed, "She took care of Cas after he..." He let out a ragged breath, "A lot's changed Jo."

"Well I can fucking see that, can't I?" Jo took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She was absolutely furious, it was as if fire was pumping through her veins. "Alright," She sighed, "I'm gonna go in that store, and I'm gonna get a change of clothes. Then tomorrow, you are driving me to Nebraska and I'm getting my stuff, and then I'm gone."

"Jo-" Dean began to plead.

Jo held up a hand to stop him, "No, Dean. I don't want to hear it. Not right now, please."

Dean pursed his lips as he yanked the keys out of the ignition. "No."

"No?" Jo echoed. "What do you mean no?"

He turned in his seat to look at her full on. He looked just as angry as she felt, "Listen Jo, I love you, and I am unbelievably sorry that this happened to you. You know that I would never want anything to happen to you, but it's been a long fucking road, and we've all had to do things, and work with people we didn't want to. So get over it Harvelle." He shoved door open and got out. He looked back to see that she was still starring at the spot he had just vacated. Her eyes were wide, her eyebrows almost reaching her hairline, "Well are you coming?"

Jo shook her head, clearing herself of her mental haze. _Dean loves me? _Was the only thought she had, playing on a loop, over and over again. She got out of the car, shuffling her feet over to him. No matter how caught off guard she was, it didn't change anything, whether he loved her or not. She trusted him implicitly as a hunter, no matter how angry she was with his choices of 'coworker', she knew it must have been a necessary evil. "Okay," She whispered as she reached him. "You're right. I believe you did what you had to do."

Dean's brows knitted together, "Really?"

"Yeah, really." Jo looked up at him. This was the man she loved, there was no question in that. Her heart swelled, and her breath hitched. Could she spend forever with him? "It doesn't change my plans."

The disappointment and pain that crossed over Dean's face, almost made her change her mind. She never wanted him to hurt in anyway. It just cemented her decision to leave that much more. The further she was the less sorrow she would cause him.

Dean could not conceal the fact that the thought of her walking away from him broke his heart. He had finally told her he loved her, albeit not in the most romantic of ways, but he had never said that to any woman. He knew from the minute he met her that it was strictly reserved for her. That Joanna Harvelle wasn't just some girl. She was never just some girl. "Jo…" His voice croaked.

Jo shook her head, looking down at her shoes, trying to push back the tears that were prickling her eyes. "Not here," She whispered. She wiped at her eyes hastily as she cleared her throat, "Come on, let's get this over with."

Xxx

Dean could feel the ball of tension building in between his shoulder blades as he drove home from the store. Jo hadn't said one word while they were shopping, and had only mumbled a thank you when they finally reached the car.

She just sat there starring out the window, sighing every so often.

Dean had dreamed of the day that she would be close enough for him to hold. The situation with Osiris making it even worse. Seeing her faded and pale. He was tortured by the memory of her hand on his cheek wishing with every fiber of his being that she was whole and real to the touch. But this? This back and forth, I want you, stay away from me, was driving him up the wall. _You did the same thing,_ Dean reminded himself as he rubbed the back of his neck. His memory flashed to a night in Duluth, _"I'll call you."_He had said once, knowing full well that he wouldn't.

Jo was the one that had originally gone after him after all, albeit in an off handed kind of way, "_Am I ever going to see you again?" _The conversation flowed through his mind and Dean could almost still hear her voice whispering to him, _"I wouldn't hate it."_

Dean wondered if that was still true.

Jo watched as the headlights of other cars trailed by in the reflection of the window. Dean's words had been playing on repeat in her mind since they had left the store. He loved her. He had finally said it, and she ignored it. Every second she was in Hell, she thought of him, dreamed of the day he would say those three little words to her. Every minute she was being tortured, every second she was in pain she would think of him. Of being free of Hell and be able to run into his arms. But now? Here? She shook her head, arguing with herself. She was too broken to be of any good to anyone, it would just be better if she disappeared. If she stayed, it would only serve to hurt them both.

When he stopped at a red light, Dean stole a glance at his passenger, he could see her tense up and he turned his gaze back to the road.

The longer the silence got, the angrier Dean got. He just couldn't understand why she was so willing to walk away from him. His knuckles were white from his tight grip on the steering wheel as he turned down the hidden driveway that led to the cabin.

Jo knew Dean was pissed. She could see him adjusting and readjusting his hands on the steering wheel. She kept her gaze on the vacant dirt road in front of them. Her cheeks burned and her heart dropped in her stomach. The seconds seemed to stretch as they made their way down the road.

When they finally reached the cabin, Dean slammed the car into park, yanked the keys out of the ignition and tore himself out of the car. Jo took a deep breath as she gathered her bags and got out of the Impala herself.

Dean stomped halfway to the house before he suddenly stopped and swung himself to look at her. "Why?" He spit the word at her, "Why do you want to get away from me so bad?"

Jo shrugged her shoulders, the bags rustling with the movement. "Look at me," She held her arms out as if to give him a better look, "I'm a mess. I tense up at every moment, every sound. I grab a weapon every time someone comes into a room." Jo repeated his words from earlier, "A lot's changed."

Dean nodded slowly, he turned and made his way to the cabin, leaving the door wide open for Jo.

She let go of the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, and she followed his lead. She dropped her bags on the couch, looking at anything but Dean.

He leaned against the small kitchen counter, nursing a beer, as he watched her. "You're right." He put the beer down on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "I worked with Meg. Every time I saw her, I saw you. It tore me apart, but I had to. I'm sorry I didn't kill her, because believe me I wanted to. But I couldn't."

Jo's shoulders slumped as she shook her head, "Don't be. I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have freaked out like that. I was just caught off guard."

Dean nodded, "It's understandable."

They stood there in silence, shuffling their feet, as the tension in the room built.

"I don't want you to leave." Dean whispered.

Jo looked up from the worn rug under her feet, to see Dean with his head bowed, hands in his pockets. She couldn't remember a time when she had seen him so defeated.

He looked up to meet her gaze. "I don't want you to leave." He repeated, louder this time.

Jo stared at him, not sure what she should say.

Dean took a step closer, stepping around the small dining table, stopping a few feet from Jo. "I'm not going to let you leave."

Jo rolled her eyes, "What are you going to do? Handcuff me to the Impala?"

"That's one idea." He said as his trademark smirk tugged at his lips.

Jo's heart involuntarily began to beat faster, the closer Dean got.

"Jo." His voice so low it made goose bumps appear on Jo's skin. "I love you." Dean enunciated every word, making damn sure she heard him. "I'm not letting you go that easy."

Jo's hands started to shake, finally for something other than fear. "Dean," Her warning came out whispery and unsure.

Dean took another step forward, only inches from her, "Jo." He brushed a stray hair behind her ear as he mocked her.

She felt like she couldn't breathe with him so close. Her heart pounded so hard against her rib cage, she was sure he could hear it.

"I'll say it again if you want." He whispered, studying her face. "I love you. I knew it on your first case. When I thought I could never get you back, I knew it."

"Why are you telling me this?" Jo whispered.

"Because you deserve to know." He hesitantly took one of her hands in his and intertwined their fingers. "You deserved to know a long time ago."

Dean had never seen Jo look so young. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks rosy, her face conflicted.

"I know you feel broken, used up, no good." Dean whispered as he put his free hand to her cheek. "But I've been waiting for you for years. And now that you're here, nothing can keep me away from you."

Jo closed her eyes, pushing the tears she was holding off the brink and down her cheeks as she leaned into Dean's touch. "I've waited centuries for you."

Dean pulled her to him crashing his lips on to hers. There wasn't a second thought in Jo's mind before she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling her flush against him.

Dean wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her off the ground. She instinctually wrapped her legs around his waist. Their lips never parting.

It was as if the lightening from the night before had morphed into a volcanic eruption. Jo couldn't even form a thought, her appendages were clearly acting of their own accord.

Dean broke off from her lips and trailed kisses down her neck, giving her enough distance to notice they were laying down on the couch, and her bags from the store now discarded onto the floor. Dean gently bit down on the skin of her neck and she involuntarily arched into him as she gasped.

Dean made a mental note to remember that move.

Jo pulled at his shirt until Dean leaned back on his knees. He took the shirt the rest of the way off, mesmerized as Jo sat up to take her own off. His eyes raked up and down her torso, his heart racing as her hands went behind her back to unclasp her bra. He felt like a teenager again, instead of the experienced man he was.

Jo smiled as she pulled him back down to her mouth. Dean's arms wrapped around her small form, trying to touch every inch of bare skin on her back.

As they broke away for air, Dean bowed his head to leave a path of kisses on Jo's shoulder.

She didn't think about it before she did it. It just seemed too perfect a moment, too important not to tell him. She leaned her lips down to his ear and whispered. "I love you too."

* * *

**Hey all, so what did you think? Good bad? Let me know! You know what to do, just scroll on down and write me a little something. I love getting reviews, it seriously makes my day! **

**Oh, and someone had asked if I was going to incorporate more of season eight in the story, and to be honest, I'm not really quite sure, I'm just kind of letting this story take me. I have an idea of where I want it to go, but then again it changes everyday ;]**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you again so much for reading and reviewing! I absolutely love it! **

**And just to give you fair warning, there is a good amount of fluff in this one, and it starts off a little mature, so beware! ; ] **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

"I love you too."

The whisper floated to his ear as he tightened his grip possessively around her waist. Jo's declaration awoke something in Dean. He could feel its fire bubbling in the pit of his stomach, as their lips collided again. A spark had finally ignited and neither one of them could think about anything but this moment.

Jo couldn't think straight. The feel of Dean's lips against her, his hands on her skin, sending a trail of goose bumps in their wake, turned her brain completely off. Her brain south of the border had taken over. Everything about this moment felt right, like the last piece of the puzzle had finally fallen in line.

Dean pulled back, putting his hands on either side of her face. "I love you." He placed a kiss on her nose, and each one of her eyelids. "God, I love you." Dean exclaimed as he pulled her into his lap and scooped her up into his arms. He could feel Jo smile against his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he made his way to the bed in the back of the cabin.

The familiar feeling of shelter and safety washed over Jo as Dean held her tightly.

She left a kiss underneath his ear, "I love you," She whispered again.

An electric current raced through Dean at her words. He deposited her on the bed, transfixed as Jo quickly unbuttoned her jeans, wiggling her hips out of the jeans. Dean pulled on the ends, sliding them off her legs and throwing them unceremoniously over his shoulder.

Jo sat up on her knees, bringing his mouth to hers once again. She pulled back to fiddle with Dean's belt, pulling it smoothly out of the loops and letting it clatter down to the floor, her eyes never leaving his.

"Jo…?" Dean's hoarse voice trailed to her ears, as his hands mapped their way down her sides.

Jo pulled his face to hers nodding, answering his silent question, pulling at the waist band of his pants with her other hand. "Shh," She giggled into his mouth as he pulled her to his chest, stepping out of his pants and kneeling over her on the bed.

"You sure?" He asked again.

"Shut up." Jo pulled his lips down to hers again. Dean didn't need any more confirmation then that. He clawed at the flesh on her hips, as his lips assaulted hers.

Jo scratched down his back when teeth grazed the sensitive spot on her neck. His hand trailed up to gently cup one of her breast as the slid down her side, pausing at the waist band of her underwear.

The pair were so engrossed in each other they failed to hear the gentle flutter of angel wings.

"I apologize I should have called." Castiel cleared his throat, averting his gaze from the couple on the bed.

"What the fuck, Cas?!" Dean yelped, turning to look at Castiel, and shielding Jo behind him.

"You told me to return immediately if I had some information." Castiel reminded him.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, fine, what did you find out?"

Castiel unnecessarily readjusted his coat, "Joanna, you were raised permanently. I have yet to find out who, but it seems it was not a malicious act but rather a gift."

Jo peaked her head over Dean's shoulder. "I'm not going back to Hell?"

"Unless you sell your soul or get bit by a hellhound, no."

"That's great, Cas." Jo smiled sincerely before pointing at the door, "Now leave."

"Yeah, come back when you know who." Dean added.

Castiel nodded curtly before disappearing.

Dean looked over his shoulder at Jo with a smirk so flirtatious her stomach rolled with anticipation. "Now, where were we?" He purred.

Everything had changed. Unless another act of stupidity came along, she was here to live out the rest of her days. With Dean. A warmth spread over her abdomen and up to her chest, "Somewhere around here." She quipped as she pulled his lips back to hers, where they belonged.

Xxx

The day Dean Winchester was created, God set forth creating his match, as he did with all his children. He studied Dean's soul carefully, examining every calculated flaw and intricacies. He was determined to create a soul so complimentary that upon meeting it would be absolutely undeniable. He knew that Dean was to be of great importance to the world, his match must be too.

She had to be just as strong and stead-fast as Dean was. She had to be courageous and brave. But she had to be soft where Dean was hard. Nurturing and caring on the outside when Dean would push those qualities further inward.

He made a clear note in their destinies that they were meant to find true happiness on Earth in each other. Their primitive bond would bring them together on sight. They would both feel it. They would both instinctually know.

However, the violence and atrocities of the Earth and its inhabitants sickened Him. He had no choice but to look away and let them destroy each other. He left Earth in the trustworthy hands of his son, Michael.

Michael grew selfish and overly righteous. He created the destiny that would best suit his needs.

God stayed ignorant to the politics and the foreboding war between Heaven and Hell. He stayed in hiding, waiting to see what his children would do. From what he had seen the human race didn't stand much of a chance.

That is, until Dean said 'no'. Even after the death of his soul mate, which He knew must have broken Dean in an impossible way, he stayed the course. He stayed vigil, he stayed strong.

And so did she.

Joanna Beth Harvelle looked every demon in the eye, daring them to continue their torture. Never once let them hear her scream, if she could help it. She was the one to notify the demon Crowley of Sam Winchester's whereabouts, effectively rescuing the youngest Winchester from the cage. Even when she began torturing souls, she would ask why they were there, and deal out a responsible amount of pain, depending on recipient's crime.

All the while God watched, waiting for the exact right moment to raise her from perdition. To bring the pair back together again, to put them back on the path of the destiny he had originally created.

"I see you brought Dean's match back." Death said as he sat down in the seat next to God.

"Her name is Joanna."

Death nodded reluctantly, "Why?"

God furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?" He looked down at the sleeping hunter's below, "Shouldn't they be happy?"

"I suppose they do, but at what cost, my friend?" Death sighed as he followed God's gaze. "I never pictured you as the meddling type."

God bowed his head, "My children have made a mockery of my Kingdom."

Death shook his head, "All children mock their parent's teachings at some point."

"I suppose you're right."

"Of course I'm right."

"What is he like? Dean, in person?" God turned to his old friend, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Just as obnoxious as you created him to be."

God rested a hand on Death's shoulder, as he smiled.

xxx

Dean was awoken by being roughly shoved off the bed. He landed on the cold hard wood floor with a loud thud. Jo pulled herself over the edge of the bed to peer down at him.

"Sorry, I forgot where I was." Jo worried on her bottom lip.

Dean rolled over and leaned up on his elbows. "Did you sleep okay though?"

Jo nodded, "Yeah, actually, I did. I just woke up and for a minute I didn't know where I was."

Dean sat up and his face was mere inches from hers. "Good morning." He reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Jo smiled, "Good morning."

Dean put his fingers under her chin and brought her to his lips for a tender kiss. Dean took his time too, he couldn't think of anything he should be doing today other than kissing Jo.

Jo pulled away first, turning over on her back and stretching out her limbs.

"So, I was thinking, maybe we could go see a movie today?"

Jo's brows furrowed. "I thought you were going to take me to Nebraska?" She turned back on her stomach and glared at him. "That was the plan."

"Oh yeah," He nodded solemnly, "The plan."

"I need my stuff Dean." Jo urged.

Dean dragged his body to a standing position. "Well let's get ready then."

Dean turned on his heel and marched into the bathroom. Even after everything that happened last night, Jo was still on her plan. Dean slammed the door closed, clenching his fists.

Jo blinked at the closed bathroom door. She analyzed the previous conversation for any sign of the catalyst to cause _that_. And she could find nothing.

Of course last night had changed everything. He knew that. He must know that.

Jo was not the one night stand kind of girl. His wasn't about to get rid of her now.

She pushed herself off the bed, and stomped her way after him.

Jo threw the door open just as Dean was turning on the water, "Jesus Christ Jo!" He screeched clutching his chest.

Jo put her hands on her hips, "What was that all about?"

Dean ran a hand threw his hair as he sighed.

"You started this," She said gesturing to the both of them. "I'm the real deal Dean. I'm not some floosy you picked up at a bar."

Dean pulled his eyes up to meet hers. "Do you still want to leave?"

"I want to go to Nebraska and get my stuff." Jo sighed.

"And then what?"

"What do you mean, and then what? I don't care where we go after that." Dean's eyebrows raised at her words. Jo smirked, her thoughts of him being an idiot clearly written on her face. "Yeah, that's right. I said 'we'."

"You and me, huh?"

Jo rolled her eyes, pulling back the shower curtain and stepping in. She raised one eyebrow expectantly. "You coming?"

Dean nearly slipped as he jumped into the shower with Jo.

Xxx

"Can we listen to literally anything other than ACDC?" Jo let her head fall back against the head rest of the Impala.

Dean glanced at her with his mouth open in shock. "This is an American classic."

"Oh my God, no." Jo shook her head, "A thousand times, no."

"Fine, fine," Dean reached over and turned the knob to the next clear station.

"Thank you." Jo sighed in relief.

"Sure thing, princess." Dean smirked at Jo, and she stuck her tongue out at him in return.

They remained in silence, quietly listening to the barrage of 90's alternative rock songs, the local collage station was playing.

Jo turned sideways in her seat so she could watch Dean as he drove. She could not believe how in love with the man in front of her she was. It overwhelmed her, and seemed as if it was all going too fast. She had just gotten out of hell a few days ago, and now she's shacking up with some guy. On paper she sounded like a bad daytime TV talk show story line.

But then he would look at her. His eyes shone with what she knew was love, and she knew it was all worth it. The centuries of carrying a flame for a man that may never love her back, was well worth it. Everything she went through, all the horrible memories, all the damned soul's blood on her hands, everything, was worth it.

With Dean, she didn't seem to think about Hell. She certainly slept better in his arms. Jo was completely and utterly safe with him. She knew he would rather die than to see her in pain and he knew that Jo would do the same. Had done the same.

Dean could feel her eyes on him. He wasn't bothered by it like he would if it were Sam, he was more annoyed that he was driving and couldn't return her gaze for longer. He reached over and pulled her hand into his, intertwining their fingers together.

Their hands fit as if they were designed that way. Dean brought her hand up to his lips and placed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. He could not even begin to describe the emotions rolling through him in the past couple of days. If he had to take a guess, he would suppose that this is what happiness felt like.

The ball of tension that normally resided in between his shoulder blades was gone completely, and he even noticed a bit more skip to his step. He wished he could go back in time and kick his own ass for not letting this happen sooner.

"What are you thinking about?" Jo asked breaking through his thoughts.

"How stupid I am."

Jo let out a bark of laughter, "Which time?"

Dean chuckled, giving her hand a teasing squeeze, "This should have happened a long time ago." He held up their joined hands to emphasize his point.

Jo shook her head, "Wrong place, wrong time." She reminded him.

"Nah," Dean argued, "More like young and stupid."

Jo shook her head again. "No, it had to happen like this."

Dean glanced at her quickly, his brows knitted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"If we got together right away, you would have tried to protect me, and keep me locked up at the Roadhouse, just like mom." Jo ticked off on her fingers.

"That does sound like me." Dean nodded slowly.

"Yeah, and then I would have started to resent you, we would start fighting, and break up horribly. Most likely in public."

"I see you've thought about this."

"I've had a lot of Me-Time lately." Jo mumbled, clearing her throat, "Plus, you were afraid of my mom."

Dean nodded, agreeing right away, "Oh yeah, real bad."

Jo rolled her eyes as she tried to stifle a laugh.

"So what's in storage locker that you need so bad?" Dean asked trying to change the subject.

"All my stuff." Jo deadpanned.

"I got that."

"Well, I'm doubting you still have by backpack. So I'm gonna need some of my supplies."

"I did actually." Dean mentioned, "But, it was at Bobby's house, and the house blew up."

Jo shook her head. "Way to get my hopes up."

"Oh," Dean exclaimed, "I have your knife and shot gun still."

"Why didn't you tell me before?!" Jo lightly punched him in the arm.

"Honestly, I kind of forgot. They've been in my trunk, untouched since you gave them to me."

Jo reached over and left a loud kiss on his cheek. "I love you."

Dean wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her to his side. "Love you too." He said pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Xxx

Jo's home state of Nebraska, hadn't changed at all, her hometown the worst culprit of them all. It was as if they had driven back in time, to when Jo was in high school. The only difference is there was no bar on the outskirts of the town anymore.

They made a stop at a local convenient store for snacks, when Sam finally called Dean. Dean waved for Jo to go in without him as he started interrogating his little brother.

Jo pulled the oversized hoody she was wearing tighter around her as she entered the small store. She just prayed that no one would recognize her.

She grabbed a hand basket and made her way through the aisles. Everything was still right where it used to be.

Jo bowed her head as she made her way to the coolers. She peered at all the different types and flavors, and was suddenly indecisive. Three hundred years without flavor, her mouth watered uncontrollably. There were just too many choices that she had once taken for granted.

"Joanna?" A high pitched female voice came from her left. "Is that you? Oh my god, it's been so long!"

A bodacious brunette stopped her cart feet away from Jo. "Tracy, right?" She faked trying to put the face with the name. The woman's face and name, however, was one she would never forget. The quintessential cheerleader that made Jo's high school career a nightmare. Lacey Jackson. Jo's insides shuddered at the torture this woman had bestowed upon a young Jo.

The woman chuckled politely, "Lacey," She corrected. "Lacy Jackson, well, Prewitt now." She waved a moderate sized diamond ring in front of her.

"Oh, congratulations," Jo forced a smile.

"Yeah, me and Jack Prewitt are finally husband and wife." Lacey gushed.

Jo couldn't say that she was surprised by that. Lacey Jackson and Jack Prewitt were the homecoming king and queen, prom king and queen, head cheerleader and quarterback of the football team. Jo was surprised Lacey hadn't gotten herself knocked up a long time ago.

"Wow," Jo faked a sincere smile, "That's amazing."

Thankfully Dean chose that moment to snake his arm around her waist, "Hello there," Dean looked Lacey up and down.

Jo smiled up at Dean, "Lacey this is Dean." She made a point of putting her hand on his chest possessively. "Dean, I went to high school with Lacey."

Lacey twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, giving Jo an appreciative nod, "Well it was nice to meet you. I'll see you around Joanna."

"Bye," Jo waved as Lacey passed by them, swaying her hips all the way to the checkout lane.

"What was that about?" Dean asked hooking his thumb toward Lacey.

Jo shook her head, watching Lacey over Dean's shoulder. "You know in those chick flicks, where the ugly duckling chick meets up with the queen bee from her high school later on in life. Thanks to you, I just had an awesome non-verbal fuck you moment."

Dean let out a laugh as he opened one of the cooler doors selecting a Pepsi and handing it to her, "Oh yeah? How'd I do that?"

Jo took the Pepsi and dropped it in the basket, "Just being the hot little stud muffin you are."

"Oh I see," Dean teased as he followed her down one of the aisles. "You're just with me for my looks."

Jo grabbed a bag of Twizzlers off the shelf and tossed them to him, "It ain't a deal breaker." She joked, not even bothering to fight him off as he wrapped his arms around her waist, effectively capturing her.

Xxx

Jo turned the combination into the lock on the storage locker and slide it off. She backed up as Dean shoved the door up before she took a step inside.

She didn't bother looking at any of the memorabilia she had from her life. She had no urge to get lost in nostalgia and memories now. She grabbed a spare canvas backpack off one of the stacks of boxes. She went straight for the weapon cabinet against the far wall and began pulled weapons out and placing them in the bag.

Dean walked along the wall to the right, sliding his hand along the tops of the dusty boxes. He stilled at the small child's pink bike hanging from the wall. He smiled at the image of a small version of Jo riding that bike. Blonde curls blowing in the wind, smiling and laughing. His eyes froze as they reached the handle bars. Dangling there was a gold amulet hung by a black thread.

Xxx

"You cannot be serious."

"I most certainly am." He smiled, seeing the hunter find his gift. "He has been asking for me."

The angel knelt down in front of her father, "He has been asking for you for years. Why now?"

The average man looked down at his child, cupping her face in his hand, "It just seems to me as if it is the right place and the right time."

"Father please." The angel begged, "If you go to Earth, you will not remember who you are."

He smiled knowingly. "It does not matter, my host will know what will need to be said. And the amulet will lead them."

* * *

**So how'd I do? Did you like it? Tell me what you think, just scroll on down, write a little something and click review. That easy! And then I'm happy and I write faster lol. **

**Spoiler alert: Next chapter will have an old character come back, care to take a guess who?! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Happy Tuesday! Okay so this is a pretty rare occurrence, but I just could not shut my brain off. So please, read, and I hope you enjoy! **

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"I don't know what that is." Jo repeated letting go of an exasperated sigh.

"That's not what I asked," Dean ground his teeth, struggling to keep his cool. "Where did you get this?"

"It's not mine, I don't know." Jo shrugged staring at the necklace dangling from Dean's fingers.

"Well who else had knew about your locker?" Dean shoved the amulet in his pocket.

"My mom and Ash." Jo deadpanned.

"Alright, well, then how did it get here?"

"I have no idea, Dean." Jo turned back to her packing, grabbing more books off a shelf and shoving them into the bag. "What is it anyway?"

"It's something Sammy gave me a long time ago." Dean brushed off.

Jo looked over her shoulder at him, "What's it doing here?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Dean shuffled his feet thinking. "Do you think that Cas put it in here?"

Jo heaved the heavy bag onto her shoulder, "Why wouldn't he just give it to you? And why would he put it in here of all places?"

Dean moved to open the trunk of the Impala, "All very good questions."

"Maybe you should just ask him?" Jo said with a smirk.

"Oh like that hadn't occurred to me." Dean rolled his eyes.

Jo punched at his shoulder, "Ass."

Dean grabbed her wrist expertly before her blow landed, twisting her hand into his. "Come on let's get a move on. We gotta meet Sammy in Wyoming by tonight."

"Okay, let me just grab one more thing." Jo took her hand from his and reached for a box near the door. She picked it up and placed it in the trunk next to her backpack.

"What's that?" Dean asked eyeing the box suspiciously.

"Just some clothes." Jo bushed off as she shut the trunk, taking the keys out of the lock and handing them to Dean.

She turned shutting the garage door behind her, slipping the lock on. She tugged on it just to make sure it was secure.

"Alright," Jo clapped her hands as she turned back to face Dean, "Let's make like a tree and get the fuck out of here."

Dean laughed as he threw the keys in the air and catching them as he made his way to the driver seat.

Xxx

He couldn't remember doing anything but walking. It seemed his whole existence was made to purely travel a deserted road in the middle of nowhere. He couldn't even remember his own name. All he knew was that he must keep walking. Toward what or whom, he hadn't the faintest idea.

He tripped as if over nothing, his body sprawled across the pavement as a truck's headlights panned over his dilapidated form.

He could hear the brakes screeching to a halt, but all he could see was pure white. He put his hand up to shield them from the blinding light.

"Hey, are you alright?" A man's voice came from beyond the light. The truck's door squeaked open and slammed shut, the sound of steel toe boots scuffled pebbles across the pavement. "Sir?" The man's voice came closer, "Are you…? Chuck?"

He put down his hand, _Chuck_, he thought, the name did sound familiar. It seemed right. He pushed himself into a sitting position and peered at the man walking toward him. He was extremely tall, and wide. He was built like an old time strong Midwestern farm hand. His long hair was almost past his shoulders, although Chuck knew it used to be shorter, "Sam?" He asked as if just feeling out the name.

"Holy shit, Chuck." Sam knelt down next to Chuck, scanning his face for any injuries. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"I don't really know… On both accounts." Chuck mumbled trying to stand. His legs shook a bit and Sam quickly stood to steady him.

"Come on, I'm on my way to see Dean now." Sam held on to Chuck's arm as he eased him to the passenger side of the truck. "Do you remember how you got here?"

"Dude, I'm still not sure I remember who you are." Chuck snorted as he practically crawled into the bucket seat of the truck.

Xxx

"So my name's Chuck, and I'm a prophet of God. And I wrote a series of books about your life." Chuck repeated.

Sam readjusted his grip on the steering wheel of the truck. "Yeah, I know it sounds a little crazy."

"Hm," Chuck thought about it, "It doesn't sound crazy." He concluded. "And you're Sam and you hunt monsters with your brother Dean." Chuck continued.

"Yeah." Sam confirmed, pulling down the street with the motel he had agreed to meet Dean at. "Normally people would be freaking out right about now."

Chuck looked at Sam sideways. "I know I should be, but I'm not really shocked," He said, "It's like I knew it, I just need someone to remind me."

Sam's brows furrowed as he parked the truck in front of the office of the rundown motel. "Are you sure you don't know how you got on that road?"

Chuck shook his head, "No, not at all. All I remember is walking and then you showed up."

"Huh." Sam leaned on the steering wheel, trying to add up all the clues.

"What?" Chuck turned in his seat watching him, as if Sam's thoughts were written on his face.

"Just a lot of weird stuff is going on lately." Sam shook his head, turning his gaze back to the motel office.

"Like what?" Chuck inquired.

"Well, you for one," Sam looked pointedly at his old friend. "And Jo's back too." Sam undid his seat belt and opened the door. "Stay here, I'm gonna go get a couple of rooms."

Chuck nodded, barely listening. The name Jo went off like an alarm in his head. It was an important name. Something about that person was extremely important, but he just could not picture their face, or even if it was a male or female. Although he was almost positive it was a girl. Maybe her name was Josephine, or Joanna. _Joanna_, the name stuck in his head. She was a hunter too. Maybe.

Chuck buried his head in his hands. A gentle throb began a pattern on his temples at the effort of trying to remember what felt like a dream he had long ago.

Chuck yelped as Sam yanked open the truck door, too deep in his thoughts to notice Sam walking back to the truck.

"Sorry," He said noticing he had startled Chuck. He climbed into the cab and turned on the truck, "We're in room 12. Dean and Jo will probably want to have a room to themselves."

"Joanna, right?" Chuck questioned.

"Yeah, but don't call her that to her face." Sam warned.

"I think I knew that."

Sam dug his phone out of his pocket as he parked in front of room 12. He checked the time, before flipping it open and hitting one on the speed dial. "Hey, yeah we just got here." Chuck could hear a male voice on the other line, he knew it must be Dean. "Well, yeah, you kind of got to see it to believe it." He let out a sarcastic chuckle, "Yeah, it's gonna be that kind of night. Alright, see you soon." He flipped the phone closed and opened the driver side door to get out. "Well, Jo and Dean are about an hour out. You hungry?"

"Oh my God, yes!" He exclaimed, his stomach growled at the thought of food.

Sam laughed as he shut the door and started the truck once again.

Xxx

"Who's 'we'?" Dean practically barked into the phone. "Uh, huh, so it's gonna be one of those nights. Alright, later." Dean flipped his phone closed and dropped it onto the bench seat next to him.

"Who's 'we'?" Jo repeated as she toyed with the ends of her hair.

"I don't know." Dean shook his head. "Sounds like we have another surprise guest."

"Oh great." Jo rolled her eyes as she put her feet up on the dashboard.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged, "The last one was pretty awesome."

Jo could feel the heat rise to her cheeks as she tried in vain to glare at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

Dean reached out and squeezed her thigh playfully, "I don't know about that." He teased.

Jo brushed his hand away, "You never answered my question."

"Oh, yeah," Dean smirked reaching for her leg again. "What was that again?"

"Dean!" Jo shrieked as tickled her. "Stop." She held up a demanding finger.

Dean turned his gaze back to the road trying to suppress a smile, "Alright. What was your question again?"

"What was your favorite job?"

"Oh yeah, probably the one where I got to go back in time to the Wild West."

"What?" Jo looked at him disbelievingly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, it kind of awesome. But it's really not like it is in the movies." Dean frowned thinking about his fashion decisions for that particular trip.

Jo smiled knowingly at him, "You were a big nerd, weren't you?"

"Oh yeah, huge." Dean nodded, "Alright, what about you?"

Jo leaned her head back against the head rest. "Poltergeist in a kid's ball pit. Favorite food?"

"Cherry Pie."

Jo rolled her eyes, "I should have expected that."

"How many guys have you…? You know?" He mumbled as he tried not to look at her.

Jo's eyebrows raised in surprise, "Wow, smooth."

Dean cleared his throat, "Yeah, well, I, uh," He stuttered rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Three, including you." Jo turned to look out the window. "I'm not even going to ask you."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Jo turned back to look at him, "So what's with the necklace?"

"Sam gave it to me a long time ago."

"Yeah, you said that already." Jo watched as his shoulder's tensed up, "Must be pretty sentimental if you're getting all worked up about it."

"I'm not getting worked up." Dean argued.

"No," Jo shook her head, turning back to look out the window. "Not at all."

Dean sighed reaching in his pocket for the amulet. He held it in his hand, feeling the weight of it in his hands. He had forgotten how heavy the amulet actually was.

He chuckled out loud at the irony, of course it would be heavy. He looped the thread over the review mirror and let it dangle there.

"Cas told me that it burns hot in the presence of God." Dean explained. "He took it once to try and find him."

Jo starred at the gold amulet swaying back and forth from the mirror. "I take it he didn't find him."

"No." Dean sighed, he turned his attention back to the road. "He didn't. God doesn't want to be found."

Xxx

"Alright," Dean clapped his hands when they finally parked the Impala outside room twelve. "Let's do this."

Sam must have heard the Impala's engine shut off because he was opening the door for them. "Hey guys."

"Hey Sammy." Dean greeting meeting his brother halfway to the room. "So, who do we have in there?"

"Chuck."

"Chuck?" Dean's brows knitted together, "Chuck's dead."

Sam pointed a finger at Dean, "Assumed dead."

Dean shook his head, "No, that's impossible. Then why would Kevin's prophet light get turned on? All that only-one-can-survive bullshit."

"I have no clue," Sam shook his head and hooked his thumb toward the door, "But he's watching TV inside, and he doesn't really remember anything."

Jo looked from Sam to the door and then back to Dean, "Who's Chuck?"

Xxx

"Hi, I'm Chuck," Chuck extended his hand out to Jo. He looked over his shoulder at Sam. "Do I have a last name?"

"Shurley." Sam answered.

Chuck raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Your last name is Shurley."

"Oh yeah." Chuck shrugged bashfully as he turned back to Jo. "Chuck Shurley, I'm a prophet."

Jo accepted his hand, "Hi Chuck. I'm Jo."

Chuck's gaze fogged for just a moment. "Jo Harvelle, right?"

Jo looked over to Sam, who shook his head. "Yeah, that's right."

Chuck cocked his head to look at her, trying to search his entire memory for the cause of the gnawing feeling deep in his stomach. "I feel like I have to tell you something… But I just can't remember what."

Dean walked around Jo and patted Chuck on the back. "That's alright Chucky, we'll figure it out."

Chuck watched as Dean threw himself on one of the beds. "Dean, right?" The same gnawing feeling eating away at his insides.

Dean spread his arms out wide, "The one and only."

Chuck furrowed his brows as he looked from Jo to Dean, "Alright, this is just weird." Chuck backed up and leaned against the dresser as he put his head in his hands.

Dean leaned up on his elbows to look at Chuck. "So what happened?"

Chuck dropped his hands and shakily folded them across his chest, "I don't know, man." He whined, "One minute I'm walking down this road, and then the next Sam picks me up."

"You don't remember where you were before that?" Jo questioned.

"No, not at all." Chuck shook his head. "I can barely remember my old life. Things just sound familiar."

"Then how'd you know my last name?" Jo pressed.

Chuck looked at Sam startled, "You must have…?" At Sam's shaking head, Chuck turned back to Jo. "I, I don't know. Did we meet before?"

"No, I don't think so." Jo whispered.

"No, we didn't." He whispered, confounded by his intuition. Chuck turned to Sam desperately, "You said I wrote everything down, was she in them?"

Dean shook his head, "She wasn't in any of the books."

"Doesn't mean I wouldn't write it down."

"Well that's great." Dean sat up slapping his hands on his thighs, "But that was over two years ago. Your notes could be anywhere by now."

"Not necessarily." Sam piped up, "When Kevin popped up, I went back to Chuck's place, and all the notebooks were gone. But I did get your hard drive."

Chuck shook his head, "I wouldn't have put it on the computer."

"How do you know?" Dean stood, edging on him, "You said it yourself you barely remember your old life."

Chuck put his hands up in surrender, "I told you, I don't know, man." He waved his hands in the air as he began to pace, "This is all insane. I have no idea who you people are but everything you tell me seems right and I just _know_ that I should trust you. Oh God..." Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose. "And my head is killing me."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, how about this? We go through the hard drive, see if we can find anything." When no one argued he nodded his head, "Okay, I'll get the beer." Dean turned to Jo before he walked out the door, "I'll be right back."

Jo nodded numbly as she turned back to Sam and Chuck. They both looked at her with an odd sense of curiousity, though Sam's held a slight twinge of pity mixed with guilt.

"So," Chuck clapped his hands, "Jo, you're a hunter too?"

Jo nodded, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Yup."

"And you and, uh, Dean?"

Jo glared at Chuck.

"Is none of my business." Chuck mumbled nervously. "So hard drive, Sam?" His voice cracking as he turned to the other hunter.

"Uh, yeah." Sam pulled his laptop out of his bag and set it down on the table. He dug to the bottom of his laptop bag looking for the hard drive.

Chuck's eyes wondered back over to Jo.

His gaze didn't necessarily make her uncomfortable, but there was a strange warming sensation. A calm that began in her heart, pumping out through her veins. It wasn't anything near what she felt when Dean looked at her, not even close. It was more like the after effects of an epiphany. Pure clarity.

He looked nervous, scared even. Jo studied him as she sat down on the edge of the bed. He wasn't a big man, by any means. He was kind of scrawny. His scraggly beard made him look more unclean than Jo knew he really was. His hands shook almost the whole time, and his voice was rarely steady. He was kind of a nerd.

"Here, I found it." Sam finally pulled the hard drive out of his bag.

"Oh, thank God." Chuck mumbled hurrying over to the laptop.

Jo sighed as she laid back on the bed. She could see Sam watching her out of the corner of her eye.

She could feel the phantom heat of flames at her neck as she closed her eyes counting the second until Dean came back.

Xxx

There was nothing on Chuck's hard drives about her. Not even one mention of the Roadhouse. After hours of combing through his awful literature, Dean and Jo finally retired to their own room next door.

Jo sat with her back against the head board. She couldn't sleep. Not a wink.

There was just something about Chuck that she couldn't put her finger on.

Dean snored unperturbed as three soft knocks came from the door. Jo eased herself out of the bed, trying not to wake Dean, and tiptoed across the room to peer out the peephole.

She furrowed her brows as she slid the dead bolt open. She swung the door open enough for the man on the other side to enter. "Sam? What's going on?"

Sam hurried himself inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. "I'm sorry, I just… I have to ask."

Jo shook her head, "Sam, no."

"Jo, I don't remember, and when I try to think about it, all I see is your face and fire." He whispered, pleading with her, "Jo, please, I deserve to know."

Jo crossed her arms over her chest, "You deserve not to know."

Sam gave her his best puppy dog eyes, "Please."

Jo rolled her eyes sighing, she knew he wouldn't stop until she told him. "Alright." She gestured for him to sit in one of the arm chairs near the door, as she took the one opposite and folded her hands in her lap. "After Crowley took your body, they thought it would be funny if your soul was tied to mine. Any cut, any bruise I had, you had too, and vice versa. For a while they would torture us separately, but then I guess got bored and had us torture each other. Lucifer loved it." Jo smiled up sardonically at Sam. "He would leave us there for days, just to watch us bleed out."

Sam sat there in shock. He had no words, nothing. No words of sympathy or compassion could make anything she was saying better.

"Then they had us in an arena, for about ten years. They would have us fight to the death."

"Jo," Sam shook his head, "I'm so sorry… I didn't know."

"Yeah," Jo nodded, her hands shaking as she clenched them into fists. "But I do. I know everything. I know how much pain makes you scream. I know just how much pressure to apply to break your skin. I know what your bones feel like when they break in my hand." Jo took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She spied Dean's flask discarded on the table. She unscrewed the cap and held it up to cheers Sam, "Be grateful you don't remember, cause that's all I think about every time I look at you." Jo took one last look at Sam before she tipped the contents of the flask into her mouth.

When Sam got his soul back he didn't feel guilty. He knew he should feel horrible, that he had done horrible things, but he viewed it has his free pass.

But this? The things he couldn't remember suddenly weighed on him. He could feel his shoulder sag with the overwhelming guilt.

Jo wrapped her hands around the flask in her lap. "I don't blame you." She whispered, raising her head to look at Dean still asleep on the bed. "We've all done bad things. We just have to hold on like hell to the good."

* * *

**So how'd you like it? Please, please, please, review! I love to hear what you guys think! **

**And again thank you all so much for keeping up with me and reviewing like you have been, you have no idea what it means to me that so many of you are enjoying my story. Thank you so much! **


	7. Chapter 7

"Jo… I don't know what to say." Sam whispered as he held his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Jo shook her head, "No, really, it's fine. You were right. You do deserve to know." She finally looked up to see his head bowed. Sam's hair covered most of his face, but he was not able to hide the hand that wiped the moisture off his face. "I don't ever want to talk about this again."

Sam nodded, looking around the room uncomfortably. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Good night, Sam," Jo looked up at him as he towered over her.

Sam nodded as he opened the motel room door. "Night, Jo."

When he shut the door, Jo reached up to lock the deadbolt, never taking her eyes off of Dean. "It's rude to eavesdrop you know."

Dean's eyes fluttered open, "Is it really considered eavesdropping if you're in the same room?" He reached up and tucked a hand behind his head.

Jo played with a small hole in her pajama pants. "How much did you hear?"

Dean leaned up on his elbows to look at her. Her hair shielded her face, but even in the dark Dean could see her hands shaking as she toyed with the threads of her pants. "All of it."

Jo bobbed her head accepting his answer. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, as she shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

Dean nodded, "You don't have to."

Jo nodded solemnly, "I know." As she looked at him, a few tears glided down her cheeks. "I can't look at him, Dean." She covered her mouth to keep the inevitable sob from escaping her lips.

Dean was on his knees in front of her before her tears ever hit the ground. "Shh," He pulled her into his lap and leaned against the side of the bed holding her. "It's okay."

Jo sat up, pushing away from him, "No, it's not okay. That's your _brother_! And I can't even be in the same room with him without hearing him scream in my head."

Dean cupped her face in his hand, "It's okay. It's only been like a week. Not even." He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "If you ask me, I think you're doing pretty well."

Jo pouted, jutting out her bottom lip. She knew he was right. Lately he was annoying right about everything. "Nobody asked you."

Dean pulled her close so that he could lay a kiss to her temple. "It'll get easier. Don't worry."

When he felt Jo nod against his chest, he put his arm under her leg and lifted her onto the bed. He laid down next to her, pulling the blanket over both of them, and pulled her back to his chest.

Jo sniffled against his chest, "What if it doesn't?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean kissed the top of her head. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."

Xxx

"So what's the plan?" Chuck asked around the mouthful of eggs in his mouth.

"Well we should probably call Cas down sometime soon." Sam stated as he played with the left over toast on his plate.

"What's he gonna do?" Dean asked, "He couldn't even tell us who brought Jo back." He put his arm on the back of the booth that he and Jo shared, possessively.

"Yeah but he did find out that it's permanent," Sam pointed out.

"That's besides the point." Jo interjected taking a sip of her coffee.

Sam's brows furrowed as he looked at her, "Well maybe he can tell us something about Chuck." He argued.

Jo shrugged. "Fine. Call him up."

"Fine. I will." Sam retorted.

"Fine."

"Okay, you two." Dean held up his hands as if to separate them further. "Break it up." He looked at his brother pointedly from across the table.

"Who's Cas?" Chuck asked as he shoveled a fork full of hash browns in his mouth.

"He's an angel." Dean answered staring at him incredulously.

Chuck looked up at Dean, "Like a he's a really great guy?"

"No, like a Christmas tree topper." Sam said taking a sip of his coffee.

"A straight up angel?" Chuck clarified, wiping his mouth on his napkin.

"You shocked yet?" Jo asked with a smirk on her face.

Chuck shook his head. "No, sounds about right actually." He dragged his eggs around his plate with his fork. "Castiel, right?"

Dean nodded, "Did you read about him last night?"

"No," Chuck took a bite of his toast. "I think I knew him."

"You've met him." Dean agreed.

Chuck chewed on his toast thinking this over. He cocked his head to look at Dean, "Then who's Jimmy?"

Dean's brows shot up to his forehead, "Jimmy?"

"Yeah," Chuck responded, "Jimmy Nova-something?"

"Novak?" Dean offered.

Chuck dropped his toast in his excitement, "That's it! That name has been rolling around all night in my head. Do you know him?"

"Dean, isn't that?" Sam looked across the table at his brother.

"Yeah, it is." Dean leaned his elbows on the table as he watched Chuck wearily. "Chuck, who do you think Jimmy Novak is?"

Chuck shrugged, "I don't know, man." He starred at the granite laminate table top, his eyes glassing over as if he was seeing something that no one else could. "He was a religious man." He stated, his eyes darting up to Dean. "Right?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded slowly. His eyes gazed around the small dinner for their waitress. "We should get back to the motel. We need to get Cas down here."

Xxx

"Castiel!" Dean stood in the middle of room 12, shouting Castiel's name for the tenth time. "C'mon, Cas." He whined letting his head fall forward.

"I don't think he's coming." Jo stated as she rolled over on one of the beds. She folded her arms underneath her chin and watched as Dean began to pace.

Dean glared at her as he continued to pace.

They all stared as Sam's phone vibrated against the table.

"Well, you gonna get that?" Dean asked, his voice oozing with irritation.

Sam rolled his eyes as he reached for the phone and flipped it open. "Hey Garth," He greeted the hunter on the other line. "Yeah, she's here. Uh, okay." Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and pushed one of the buttons. "Alright, you're on speaker."

"Jo? Are you there?" Garth's voice came from the small phone.

"Hey Garth." Jo answered rolling her eyes.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doing?" Garth cooed.

"Didn't happen then, ain't happening now." Jo groaned as she sat up on the bed.

Dean winked at Jo before he turned his attention back to the hunter on the phone. "What did you need Garth?"

"Well, geez, nice to hear from you too Dean." Garth sighed into the phone. "I thought you guys would just be interested in a job."

"What kind of job?" Sam asked.

"Well there's this poltergeist that's wreaking havoc on a friend of mine's family."

"Where?" Jo asked.

"It's in your hometown. Thought you'd be interested." Garth persuaded.

Jo looked at Dean and Sam in turn, both nodding in agreement. "Alright. Who is it?"

"Who's what?" Garth asked.

Jo rolled her eyes, sighing, "Your friend, Garth."

"Oh, you know her." Garth exclaimed. "It's Lacey Prewitt."

Jo fell back onto the bed, "You've got to be fucking kidding me." She mumbled.

"Did I mention it was a paying gig?"

Xxx

"Oh my God, Joanna, when Garth called and told me you were coming to help I just couldn't believe it!" Lacey wrapped her arms around Jo as she stood on Lacey's front porch.

"Yeah," Jo peeled Lacey off of her and took a step back, "I had the same reaction." She said as she forced a smile.

"I mean I knew your family was… Well, you know."

Jo cocked her head, "No, I don't."

Dean cleared his throat quickly, trying to muffle Jo's words. "So, Lacey? Can we come in?"

Lacey's blue eyes sparkled as she looked over to Dean, "Oh, yes of course," She purred at him.

Lacey backed up to give the four room to enter. The house was beautiful. A restored Victorian that was one of the oldest houses in town. Jo was annoyed at how impressed she was with the interior. Everything was varnished and shiny and new.

"Jack got promoted to CFO at his company last year," Lacey said as she led them to the kitchen in the back of the house. "This house was abandon when we bought it from the bank, but I've always loved this house, even growing up I always knew I wanted to live here." Lacey waived her hand across the kitchen gesturing for them to take a seat.

"It's beautiful," Chuck said in awe as he took a seat at the large rectangular kitchen table, his eyes still scanning the room.

"Thank you." Lacey cooed as she took her own seat.

"Sorry, this is Chuck Shurley, and this is Dean's brother Sam." Jo introduced them. Lacey extended her hand to the boys.

"So, Lacey," Sam began as he took his own seat. "Can you tell us what's been going on?"

"Sure," Lacey nodded, folding her hands on top of the table, sitting at the head of the table. "Well when we first moved in it was little things. Like, my keys would go missing, or a picture frame was turned around."

"And then it got worse?" Dean offered.

"Yeah," Lacey bowed her head nodding. "Once we really started with the restorations, it got a little weird. We would hear voices, and things would fly across the room. A glass vase was thrown at my head last week, and Jack constantly wakes up with scratches all over his body."

Jo looked around at the empty house. "Where is Jack?"

"He left a couple of days ago." Lacey sniffed. She took a deep breath before she looked back up a Jo. "He told me to deal with it and he would come home. Jack doesn't believe in this kind of stuff, so it's difficult for him to be here." Lacey defended her husband.

"Well that's sweet of him." Jo deadpanned.

"It's not his fault." Lacey argued.

"No, of course not. He just left you all alone, unarmed, to deal with a potential threat to your life." Jo pushed. "Not his fault at all."

Dean cleared his throat again, pulling the attention back to the case. "Lacey, is there any where you can stay?"

Lacey nodded sadly, "I've been staying at my mom's since Jack left."

Dean nodded. "Good. Why don't you go there? We'll stay here and figure out what's going on."

"Alright," Lacey agreed, she pulled a key ring from her pocket. "Here's the spare." She said handing the key over to Jo. "My number's on the fridge if you need me." She wiped her palms on her thighs as she stood, looking at all the hunter's at her table. "Well, thank you, I guess. Help yourself to the food in the fridge." She mentioned as she backed out of the room. "Oh, Jo, since you're in town, are you going to go to the Fall Festival tonight?"

Jo's eyes widened, looking around at Dean, "I, uh, didn't even think about it."

"You should go." Lacey urged, "They'll be a bunch of people from high school. I bet they'd love to see you." With that, Lacey waved her goodbyes as she exited the house.

Jo leaned back in the chair as the front door slammed, her shoulders slumping, "Well, this is my worst nightmare." She exclaimed.

"Really?" Chuck asked looking around the expensively decorated house. "This?" He asked incredulously.

Jo glared at Chuck, "That bitch tortured me in high school." She exclaimed as she pointed to the door Lacey had just exited.

Sam leaned his elbows on the table, "Let's just get through this job, and we'll leave. It seems like an easy one."

"Famous last words," Jo mumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"C'mon Jo, Sam's right." Dean tried to persuade her.

"I didn't say 'no'," Jo argued. "I just hate her is all."

Dean chuckled leaning back in the chair. "Okay, do you know anything about this house?"

Jo shook her head, "Not really, an old lady used to live here when I was a kid, but after she died, it just sat here."

"How'd she die?" Sam asked.

Jo shrugged, "As far as I know, it was of natural causes. Heart attack or stroke, something like that."

"Alright, Sam," Dean said turning to his brother, "Why don't you guys go over to the library and do some research, me and Jo will go over to city hall."

Xxx

Jo banged her hands against the oak research table at city hall, "This is ridiculous." She flipped through the pages of an old book. "There's nothing here."

Dean shut the book he was reading and looked across the table at Jo. "Yeah, I know. I can't find anything either." Dean pulled out his phone as the text notification dinged through his pocket. He flipped it open, "It looks like Sam can't find anything either."

Jo slumped down in her chair, her gaze sliding over to the window. The lights of the festival flashing across the hardwood floor of city hall.

"We can go if you want?" Dean asked nodded his head toward the window.

Jo shook her head, "No."

"C'mon, it might be fun." Dean urged.

Jo looked at him disbelievingly.

"I'll win you a teddy bear."

Jo smiled as she leaned her elbows on the table. "My aim is better than yours, maybe I should win you a teddy bear."

Dean squinted his eyes at her, "Challenge accepted."

Xxx

Jo smiled vindictively as she took the giant bear from the game attendant. She turned handing it to Dean. "Here sweetheart."

Dean glared at her as he took the bear by the arm, dragging it behind him. "That game is rigged."

Jo chased after him linking her arm in his. "Is someone a sore loser?" She teased.

Dean rolled his eyes, taking his arm out of hers and wrapping it around her shoulders. Jo looked up at him smiling. A real smile. One hadn't see for some time. He leaned down and connected his lips to hers. "What was that for?" Jo asked when he finally pulled away.

"Can't a guy kiss his girlfriend?" Dean asked shrugging, taking her hand in his.

Jo's gaze was fixated on their joined hands. She looked up at Dean smirking, "Your girlfriend, huh?"

Dean stopped walking, looping his fingers in Jo's belt loops, pulling her closer. "Well, the positions all yours if you want it."

Jo let her hands drag up Dean's arms, coming to rest on his shoulders, pretending she was debating her options. "Well, I'm not really busy right now." She shrugged smirking up at him, "I guess I could do that."

Dean shook his head smiling down at her, cupping her cheek with this free hand. "Such a smart ass."

"You love it," Jo teased.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, slowly pulling her face to his, "You're right. I do."

Jo smiled as their lips connected. She had no thoughts of hell, no flashbacks to keep her from this moment. She was aware of nothing except for Dean. She knew he was her saving grace.

"Jo?!" A female voice cut through the crowd, "Is that you?!" A short red head pushed her way through the throngs of festival goers.

Jo pulled away from Dean, looking over his shoulder, "Margo?" The face of her only friend growing up filtered through her memory. "Holy shit!" Jo pushed past Dean and enveloped the small red head in her arms. "How are you?" She asked pulling back from Margo. "I haven't seen you since graduation."

Margo nodded, "I'm good, I'm good. I graduated from Nebraska State last year. You look great!"

Jo blushed slightly, "Thank you." She cupped Margo's face in her hands, "It's so good to see you, really."

Margo smiled up at her old friend. "You too, Jo. It's been way too long."

Jo turned as Dean cleared his throat, "Oh, Margo, this is my boyfriend Dean. Dean this is my best friend from high school."

Dean smiled as he extended his hand, "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Margo purred, "Way to go, Jo."

Jo rolled her eyes at Margo, she apparently hadn't changed a bit.

"Listen," Margo started, "It was great seeing you, but I gotta meet up with some friends. Are you in town long?"

Jo shook her head, "Hopefully just for a couple of days."

"Alright, we have to get dinner or something while you're here." Margo suggested.

"Yeah, definitely," Jo held out her hand to Dean, "Can I have one of your cards?" Dean reached in his pocket and handed a small white card with just a telephone number on it. "Here this is his card, I don't have a phone yet, but call. We'll do something."

Margo examined the card carefully, "Sure." She agreed pocketing the card. "I'll see you guys around."

"Alright," Jo waved as Margo began to retreat back into the crowd, "See you around!"

Dean wrapped an arm around Jo's waist, "Well that was nice."

Jo nodded, "Yeah actually, it was." She said watching Margo, until she could no longer see the vibrant red head bouncing through the crowd. "She was the only person I ever told about hunting."

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, she was the only friend I had growing up." Jo looked back at Dean. "C'mon, let's go see what the guys are doing back at the house."

Dean nodded taking her hand and leading her back to the Impala, the giant teddy bear gathering dust and dirt as he dragged it through the festival.

Xxx

Castiel watched the couple wonder through the fairgrounds with furrowed brows.

"Is something wrong brother?" The angel Arisella asked from behind him.

"They have been calling for me." Castiel answered, his gaze never wondering from the hunters.

"Father said they would." Arisella responded.

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "I must go to them."

Arisella put her small hand on Castiel's shoulder. An act of comfort she had seen many humans do in times like these. "You mustn't. You know what lies in their future. They must face it alone."

Castiel turned to face his sister, "What if they do not survive?"

Arisella smiled at her older brother, "Of course they will. Father is with them now. They will be safe, but you must stay here, Castiel. You must obey father's wishes."

Castiel nodded, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Xxx

"Shit," Margo swore as she zigzagged through the crowd. She turned back to see the hunter's retreating. She sighed as she leaned against a telephone pole.

"You're not chickening out are you?" Another woman said as she picked at the splinter's of wood coming off the pole.

"No," Margo shook her head, "Jo would understand."

The woman nodded. "She is a hunter. They only understand violence and death."

Margo looked at the woman her eyes wide, "Jo's not like that. I promise. She'll understand why we had to do it."

The woman grabbed Margo's upper arm as she dragged her through the crowd once again. "That was Dean Winchester she was with. What do you think he's going to do when he finds out? Huh?"

Margo's face paled at the mention of his last name. "Winchester?" She whispered.

"Yeah," The woman hissed. "They will have to be taken care of as well."

Margo swallowed hard, nodding.

* * *

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing this story! I check my email like a crazy person just waiting for more reviews. They seriously make my day and I love getting all the feedback from you guys, so please, please keep it up. Let me know what you think! Please, please, just scroll on down and send me some love! Thanks again guys, hope you enjoyed. **

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	8. Chapter 8

Chuck sat at the kitchen table, his chin resting on his arm, spinning the cap from a Jack Daniels bottle on the shiny varnished table top.

"So what's our next step?" Jo asked from her perch on the granite topped peninsula. She set her beer bottle down next to her as she leaned back on her palms.

Dean swirled the whiskey in his glass, watching Jo with a dangerous glint in his eye, leaning on the wall across the room from her.

Chuck poured another glass of whiskey for himself with shaking hands. "So we're gonna stay here? With a ghost?" He took a sip from his tumbler, his eyes darting around the room, waiting for something to happen.

Sam came back into the room pocketing his EMF detector. "Well, I couldn't find anything."

"Nothing?" Dean questioned pushing off from the wall and moving to refill his drink.

"Not one thing." Sam confirmed, grabbing a beer from the fridge and twisting it open.

Dean took a gulp of whiskey, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "So much for an easy job."

"Told you." Jo grumbled taking a drag from her beer.

Sam took a seat across from Chuck at the table, taking a swig of his own beer. "How about we stay the night, see what happens?" He suggested looking from Jo to Dean. "If it's nothing we can leave tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me." Jo agreed turning to look at Dean.

Dean rubbed his hand over his chin, "Yeah, alright. It's definitely better than the motel."

"The motel doesn't have ghosts." Chuck mumbled as he nursed his whiskey.

"Neither does this place apparently." Jo tipped the rest of her beer into her mouth.

"We don't know that for sure yet," Sam reminded her.

"Haven't found anything to prove that there are yet." Jo pointed her empty beer bottle at him. She tossed it expertly in the recycle bin, and hopped off the counter to get herself another beer.

"So then what do we know?" Dean asked as he set his now empty glass down on the table and sat next to Chuck.

Sam leaned his elbows on the table, "Well, nothing that I found suggest anyone died in the house."

"No Indian burial grounds?" Jo teased as she popped open her new beer.

"No," Sam took a sip of his beer. "Nothing weird. It belonged to the Dillan family for almost a century. Eleanor Dillan was the last Dillan to own it, until she lost it to the bank and was put in a nursing home.

"Dillan?" Jo asked, her brows knitting, trying to place the name.

"Yeah, do you know it?" Sam turned in his chair to look at her.

Jo shook her head, "It just sounds really familiar."

"Maybe you went to high school with someone with the name?" Sam tried to guess.

"It's possible." Jo shrugged. "I'm sure Lacey has a yearbook around here somewhere."

Dean smirked at her from his seat, "You're gonna go through all her stuff," He waved his hand gesturing to the large house, "Just to find a yearbook."

Jo shrugged taking swig of her beer, "What? I was gonna do it anyway."

Sam laughed, "Jo, I can just look it up on the internet."

"It's cute that you think that'll stop me." Jo walked around the peninsula taking a seat next to Sam.

Dean winked at her, telling her silently that he would help her with his search.

Sam rolled his eyes at Jo. "Alright, well what are we going to do in the meantime?"

Dean turned to look at Chuck, who still had his head down. "Hey," Dean nudged him. "You remember anything else yet?"

Chuck shook his head straightening up in his chair. "No," He said pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's giving me a headache."

Dean's eyebrows raised, "Good, keep drinking." He shoved the half empty whiskey bottle towards him.

Chuck eyed the bottle before he turned the Dean. "Why? Won't that make it worse?"

"Well if you're still a prophet hopefully you'll get some sort of vision and then you'll write it down. Just like before." He explained. Dean shrugged turning his attention back to his drink, "Won't solve anything, but we'll have more information."

Chuck looked back at the bottle as it beckoned him. "Fuck it." He reached for the bottle and filled his tumbler to the brim.

"That's the spirit." Dean mumbled before he finished his glass and began to pour another, taking his own advice.

"Well at least Chuck's taken care of, for the moment." Sam turned to Jo. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Jo asked giving him an incredulous look.

"We still need to figure out who brought you topside." Sam reasoned.

"Oh," Jo turned back to peeling the label off her beer. "That."

"Yeah, that." Sam mocked.

Jo rolled her eyes, "All I remember is a bright light." She turned to look at the brothers, "That's it."

"Did you have a hand print?" Dean asked leaning his elbows on the table.

"A handprint?"

"Yeah, it would have been like a raised burn in the shape of a hand, somewhere on your body." Dean explained.

"No, I didn't see one." She raised her eyebrows at him, silently asking if he had.

Dean shook his head, "That's what I had when Cas brought me up." He tipped his glass towards her, "Burned like a son of bitch." He took a gulp of his whiskey.

Jo shrugged, "What does that mean then?"

"It wasn't an angel." Dean answered solemnly.

"I didn't have a handprint." Sam interjected. "What if it was a demon? Crowley, maybe?"

"Why would Crowley bring her up here?" Dean asked his shoulders tensing in defense.

"Relax, I'm just throwing ideas out." Sam put his hands up in surrender. "What did Cas say about it again?"

"'Consider it a gift'," Jo recited, bringing her bottle up to her lips. "He said it was for good reasons."

"So that rules out Crowley." Dean leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling vindicated.

Sam and Jo both rolled their eyes at Dean's antics.

"How about you?" Dean asked turning to Chuck, "What do you remember?"

"I don't even remember a light, just walking on that road." Chuck shook his head, "It was like I had been walking it forever."

"Any handprints?" Sam questioned.

"Not that I noticed." Chuck took a gulp of his whiskey.

"Well, that just means we have no leads anywhere or for anything." Sam set his beer down on the table, "That's just great."

"Yup," Dean toasted him with his glass, "A big fat zilch."

"What road were you on?" Jo asked suddenly, snapping her head to look at Chuck.

Chuck sat up straight in his chair, startled, "I, uh, I don't know. Just some road."

Jo looked at Sam expectantly, "Oh, uh, I don't remember. It was some old country highway." Sam explained, "What does it matter?"

Jo rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. "Well I popped up in Carthage. And where did Chuck die?" She glanced at the brother's before pointedly glaring at Chuck, "Because you can't tell us."

Chuck held up his hands in surrender, "Well, excuse me for being the only one who died and came back with no explanation. Oh wait." He tapped his hands against his chest, the whiskey clearly giving him some kind of ill-fated courage.

"Alright, to your corners ladies." Dean waived them off, finishing off his drink.

"Supposedly died. But," Sam interrupted, trying to bring them back on topic, "_Supposedly_, Chuck did not die in Utah." He took a defeated swig of his beer.

"Well," Dean reached for the whiskey again, refilling his glass and emptying the bottle in Chuck's glass. "Something's bound to happen sooner or later."

Xxx

Margo sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her nails branding her skin with crescent shaped scars. Her hands shook as she accepted the challis that was handed to her. The liquid sloshed as her unsteady hands brought it closer to her lips. The rosemary and sage added to the mixture did nothing to conceal the overwhelming taste of copper. She swallowed hard, quickly passing the challis to the next participant.

She wiped her the back of her hand against her mouth, leaving a red smear down to her wrist.

Margo looked across the circle and her hazel eyes met fierce blue. Blue so bright and iridescent you would have sworn they were fake. Margo assumed in a way they weren't. They weren't human, that was for sure. Those eyes were the only reason that Margo stayed rooted to her spot. Whether it was out of fear or a sotto sense of loyalty to the woman they belonged to, she would never let herself think about it long enough to decide.

Jo Harvelle being in town certainly complicated things. It didn't change anything, it just simply sped them up. Precautions had already been set in motion for if hunters were to interfere. Lacey wouldn't be safe anywhere she hid, and there was nothing anyone could do.

They knew she would look for help, thinking it was a haunting. They had counted on it. Although Lacey was a bit quicker on the trigger than Margo had hoped. It was barely three weeks before the hunters had been called. Nonetheless, Lacey's fate had been decided.

Margo nodded her acceptance to those piercing eyes that watched her authoritative worry.

The blue eyes closed as the woman's head bowed in approval. She rose, holding her hands out to her sides, "My sisters," She smiled at each of the nine women in the circle. "We have suffered long enough. Tonight, we mark Lacey Prewitt for death."

Xxx

"There you are." Dean said as he entered the large walk-in closet that Jo was in.

She was surrounded by boxes and photo albums, stray photos scattered around her stretched out legs.

"Hey," She smiled up at him. "I found a yearbook."

"Oh yeah," Dean mused as he took a seat next to her, "What else did you find?"

Jo shook her head, "A lot of embarrassing photos. But," She sighed cocking her head to look at him. "I'm just collecting ammo for a war I lost a long time ago. Nothing that I can do to her will change anything." Her eyes were suddenly filled with sorrow. She turned back to the photo that was in her hand, passing it over to Dean. "She looks happy."

Dean took the picture in his hands, Lacey was smiling ear to ear on a couch surrounded by who he assumed were her family. He looked back up at Jo, her eyes focusing on the hard cover of the yearbook, her fingers tracing the embossed logo.

"Are _you_ happy?" Dean asked petrified of what she might say. He regretted the question as soon as it left his lips. Doubt pooled in the pit of his stomach. The same old self-hating thought were quickly rolling through his mind. _I'm not good enough for her. What were you thinking? How could she be, she's stuck here with you._

Jo smiled as she looked back up at Dean, "I'm with you, aren't I?" She teased.

Dean gave her a weak attempt at a smile back. The doubt that had sat in his stomach traveled its way up to his chest and gripped it way around his heart. It squeezed, threatening to break him.

She could see the defeat clear in his eyes. Jo knew what he was feeling, his eyes pulled down to the cover of the yearbook. Her chest tightened and all she wanted to do was comfort him. She needed to be near him, touch him. He had to know she was happy with him. It wasn't a question in her mind. Dean was everything to Jo.

Jo pushed the yearbook off her lap and moved to straddle him. She put both of her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look at her. "I don't do chick flick moments either. So what I am about to tell you, you won't ever here again."

Dean nodded, his eyes wide with worry.

"When Sam's soul left hell for good, Lucifer took to torturing me. For a hundred years. I never screamed once. I never cried out. I never said a word." Jo's eyes softened as she slid one of her hands around to the back of his neck, twirling the short hair at the nape in her finger. "Do you know why?" She whispered.

Dean shook his head softly.

Jo slowly brought her lips to his, mimicking as best she could their first kiss. "That. The last thing I ever felt was your lips on mine. I carried that memory for over three hundred years. I carried you with me throughout it all. You kept me strong." Jo let her hands met behind his head, "Being with you, that's all I ever thought about, so yes, I'm happy."

Dean's chest felt like it was going to implode. He had never forgotten Jo. She was always on the forefront of his mind, as if her death had taken a part of him with her. Lisa used to tell him he would call out her name in his sleep. Dean would brush it off, as if he was just grieving the death of a friend. He called out many names in his sleep. But deep in his soul, he knew that one of the gaping holes in his heart was always Jo-shaped.

Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, "Good, me too." He reached forward to place a peck on her nose. "I love you."

"I love you too." Jo smiled, her eyes widening as an idea popped in her head, "Wanna go have sex on Lacey's bed?"

Dean answered her by standing with her in his arms, tossing her effortlessly over his shoulder as he made a beeline to the master bedroom.

Xxx

Lacey spit her mouthwash into the bathroom sink, checked her flawless complexion one last time before she finally shut off the light and headed toward her childhood bedroom. All day she just could not shake the feeling of being watched. Before entering her room, she took one last look down the hall, just to make sure.

A cold chill ran down her spine as she finally shut the door behind her. She rubbed her hands over her arms for warmth, double checking that the window was closed and locked. "Damn insulation," She muttered climbing under blankets, pulling them close around her.

Another chill ran down her spine causing her body to spasm. A sudden shooting pain course through her torso, fading into a searing burn at the base of her spine.

Lacey jumped up feeling at the burning sensation. She flipped on the light and raced to the mirror. She raised her shirt to reveal a strange design scorched into her skin.

Xxx

A woman with red hair bounced through a crowd as festival lights trailed by his vision. She bobbed and weaved in between the faceless people passing her by in a blur. She came to a halt at a telephone booth, breathing hard. A blonde haired woman, who almost glowed, came out of the shadows. The redhead visibly tensed at the blonde's proximity. Margo. Margo and Ursila. The names coming to him effortlessly. He watched on as Ursila took a hold of Margo's arm, he went to yell to them, to make her stop, but no sound would pass his lips.

The scene spun, the colors and lights blurring and distorting. The light brightened and brought into focus a group of nine figures in a circle. There was some version of a pentagram, with all different symbols inside, painted in white on a cement floor. Ursila stood, smiling down at the group. "Lacey Prewitt will be marked for death." Her words were muffled and far away. As if he was listening through a door. Ursila lifted her hands above her head, chanting as she lowered them in a prayer in front of her face. The symbols on the floor glowed and raised above their heads.

The room spun till the harsh gray cement turned into soft lavender painted walls and flush white carpeting. Lacey Prewitt shot up in bed, grasping at the small of her back. She raced to the mirror to reveal a strange symbol branded into her skin there. He could still see the smoke coming off her charred flesh.

There was a white flash and he was looking down on himself, asleep on a plush couch. He recognized that couch. He was startled awake, grasping for the pen and the pad of paper that had fallen to the ground. Time sped up, as he was turning full pages of the legal pad every few seconds, soon Sam came into the room, his hands motioning wildly, the words too muffled to understand. Time kept rushing by and soon Jo and Dean join the group.

The room moved forward, he could see himself being thrown into the room with the lavender walls. He hit the mirror and fell like a ragdoll to the ground. Lacey was held suspended to the ceiling, her arms and legs spread out like she was being drawn and quartered. The nightstand was splintered in half, the stuffing and springs from the bed were strewn about the floor. Blood stained the once spotless carpet.

Ursila stood beneath Lacey smiling as she twisted her hand, causing Lacy great pain. Blood vessels popped in her eyes as she screamed.

Lacey's piercing scream was transformed into a high pitched ringing in his ears. Lacey was no longer there, neither was Ursila. The windows shattered at the frequency of the piercing sound.

The pitch of the noise started to change after a while, and he thought he could almost make out words. _Gate keeper. The key. She is the gate keeper. She holds the key_. It said, repeated over and over, as if on a loop. He recognized the voice. He had heard it before. He knew he had.

Chuck sat straight up on the couch, knocking the pad of paper and pen that had been laid on his chest to the ground. He scrambled to pick them up, remembering what Dean had said. He bit the cap of the pen off with his teeth and spit it across the room and turned his attention back to the pad in his lap. The words flowed from his hand as he recalled every detail of his vivid dream.

Xxx

"Castiel," Arisella chastised, "Father told you not to interfere."

"I haven't." Castiel reasoned. "Charles Shurley is a prophet."

"Castiel." Arisella was no fool, she knew what he had done. "You are helping them. I heard you."

Castiel patted his hand awkwardly against her shoulder, meaning for a gesture of brotherly comfort. "It will be okay Arisella."

Arisella turned to look at the prophet below, "Will he know what to do with the information?" She asked curiously.

"No," Castiel answered absolutely. "He will not. Not yet. He must realize who he is first. Then he will know."

Arisella nodded, "She will always need to be protected, once they know."

"I am aware of that." Castiel agreed.

"Are you assuming that role?" Arisella asked incredulously as she turned to look at her brother. "You are nowhere near able to handle that sort of responsibility. She must be able to be contained."

"Is being under my watch somehow worse than hell?" He asked, not really needing the answer.

"That was Michael's decision." Arisella bowed her head, remembering her manners. "I know how much you care for hunters, but perhaps you should accept some help with this task."

"Are you volunteering?"

"I'm certainly interested." Arisella shrugged, not really having considered it.

Castiel nodded, "I will accept your help."

* * *

**So I hope you guys are still liking it so far, I certainly am. I think it's fair to say, we are probably about half way through the story. Things are going to start to fall into place soon. Hopefully I don't screw it up too bad, this is my first fic like this so I'm counting on you guys to tell me how I'm doing! **

**On hands and knees here, please, please review. I'm a review whore, so just do it, please! **

**Thanks again all for ready! Hope you still like it! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys, thanks so much for reading! Hope you like it! Fair warning, it does get a bit violent... soo... look out!**

* * *

Chuck's hands were starting to cramp and his head pounded as the visions from his dream were starting to dissipate. The colors that were once vibrate and frightening, were nothing more than a dull blur in his head now. He had been up for hours writing ever detail he could remember. From Margo to Ursila and Lacey. And the key. But to what? The symbols made absolutely no sense to him. He absently doodled them in the margin, as they became clearer in his head.

He threw the legal pad on to the coffee table, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Done?" Sam asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

"Oh Jesus Christ," Chuck put a hand to his chest, his heart racing, just now noticing Sam standing there. "How long have you been there?" He asked, spying the steam coming out of Sam's freshly poured coffee cup.

Sam shook his head as he took a seat in the arm-chair next to the couch, "Not long. I didn't want to interrupt you."

Chuck sighed leaning into the overly plush backing of the couch. "Yeah," His voice breathy as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Started forgetting it at the end."

"Any thing we can use?" Sam eyed the pad wearily, almost afraid of what he would find out.

"Just read it." Chuck laid back on the couch, draping his arm over his eyes. "I don't get it."

"Well," Sam said reaching forward for the pad of paper, "Let's see what we got." He sipped on his coffee as he flipped to the first page.

Chuck groaned as the pounding in his head became louder in the silence.

"There's aspirin on the counter in the kitchen," Sam mentioned absently as he flipped to the next page.

Chuck rolled himself wordlessly off the couch and padded toward the kitchen.

xxx

"Key for what?" Sam asked, his voice dripping in irritation as he paced the room. He was now leaving a groove in the carpeting.

"I told you," Chuck moaned from his place on the couch. He let his hand fall off the edge to look over at Sam, "I don't know. It's just like how I wrote it down, there was a loud ringing noise, and then it turned into a voice. And that is what he said." He pointed at the legal pad.

"He?" Sam stopped pacing to stare at Chuck, "It was a man's voice."

Chuck's brow furrowed as he tried to identify the gender of the voice. "I think so? I feel like it was a man."

Sam dropped his arms to the side defeated, "Come on, dude, you never had this much trouble remembering your visions before." He almost whined as he dropped down in the arm-chair.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," Chuck pulled himself into a sitting position, his shoulder's slumping with the effort, "But I don't remember that, so... I'm doing my best here." He sighed.

Sam threw the legal pad on the coffee table, and rubbed at his face, "I know, I know." He sighed looking up at the clock on the far wall, "What the hell are they doing up there?"

Chuck shrugged his shoulders, "I can take a guess."

Sam rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of the arm-chair and headed toward the stairs.

He dragged his feet up the steps, knowing full well what he would find.

Sam smirked as he remembered Dean singing that stupid REO Speed-wagon song for days. Hell, every time Dean would see Jo he would puff out his chest and have a bit more swagger to his step. Sam should have known back then. He should have told Dean it was okay. Push him toward a life with Jo. They just fit together. His memory flashed to the last night at Bobby's. Sam had been so wrong. It wasn't a terrible idea, it was the exact opposite.

Sam massaged his forehead as a sharp pain started at his temples as he stepped on the landing. He couldn't stop his mind from wondering to his time in hell. He knew were things about hell she didn't tell him. She was with him for over a hundred years, and Sam was sure there were things she would never tell him.

He stopped short of the master bedroom a frown slipping onto his features. His fingers tingled as they twitched at his sides. He turned his head to either side trying to crack the knot that had settled its way in his neck. His eyes only saw blood soaked walls.

_The sound of chains rattling next to him snapped his eyes open, his head whipping toward the cause of the sound. _

_Blonde hair curtained the woman's face as she curled closer into the corner, wrapping her arms around her knees protectively. Her hair was matted, almost dread locked, the ends soaked in blood. It left smears of red just above her elbows when she moved. He didn't need to see the face to know who it was. "Jo," His voice cracked from neglect. "Jo?" He cleared his throat. _

_Her head cocked slightly toward the sound, shaking her head, as if she had imagined it. _

"_Jo? It's me. It's Sam." He tried to move toward her, his own chains scrapping against the floor. He could see her physically cringe at the sound, "It's okay, it's just me." _

_She whipped her face to look at him. Her eyes wild, her lip was split and putrid green bruises marred her once pure skin. She watched him like a feral animal would watch a threat. "No." Jo hissed at him. _

Sam shook his head to clear himself of the memory. It couldn't be real. It couldn't. He wasn't supposed to remember.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, "It's okay. It's just me." The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Xxx

Jo laid with her body flush against Dean's side. Her head rested against his chest, trying to match her breathing with the steady beat of his heart. She traced the anti-possession symbol there lightly as the early morning sun broke through the thick bedroom curtains.

"I can definitely get used to this," Dean croaked, his eyes fluttered as he looked at her.

"_This is_ a very comfortable bed," Jo teased, stretching out her arm patting the empty space behind her.

Dean rolled over to trap her underneath him, "You know what I mean," he growled, trailing kisses from her temple stopping only to bury his face in the crook of her neck.

Jo joined her hands together behind his neck, "I certainly do," She cooed. "I could stay like this forever."

"That can be arranged." Dean muffled against the skin of her shoulder.

Jo chuckled lightly as her hands roamed down the planes of his bare back, feeling the hard muscles there dance under her hands. "I'm sure. You'd love to chain me to a bed somewhere."

Dean left feather light kisses against her collar-bone, "Don't give me any ideas. I have plenty of hand cuffs."

"I know," Jo laughed as she tried to wiggle out from under him, "I've seen the stash."

Dean tightened his grip on her, not finished with his assault on her neck. He bit down lightly on the soft flesh there, pulling it into his mouth.

Jo tried to push his face away from her neck, "I know what you're doing, Dean." She tried to keep her tone serious, but his hands roaming their way up her sides were quickly disintegrating her resolve.

"I'm not doing anything," He said in mock innocence as he whispered next to her ear.

She made a weak attempt to push him away, "Dean." She tried to be stern with him, but it came out more of a moan.

He pulled back with a mischievous smirk, "What?" He let his forehead meet hers.

"You know what." Jo answered, her glare having no anger behind it.

Dean leaned in and let his lips meet hers slowly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jo smiled against his mouth as he leaned in to kiss her again, "If I have a mark," She warned.

"What're you gonna do about it, Harvelle?" He almost purred in her ear.

She could feel her toes curl as the vibration of his voice traveled down her body. Jo's body moved on its own accord. She turned her head to meet Dean's lips, with no intention of ever parting. She let the sweetness of bliss fill her completely.

The sharp rapping on the door pulled her away from Dean as if he had been on fire.

"It's okay, it's just me." Sam's voice came through the door.

Jo suddenly couldn't breath. She frantically reached for her throat, kicking her way out from under Dean, "No," she gasped, scratching at her chest, as if that would let her breath easier. _"It's just me." His voice broke through her thoughts as she whipped her head to look at him. _

_She shook her head frantically trying to melt into the corner behind her. "No," she spat. "It will never be _just_ you. Not ever again." _

She could feel the phantom weight of the chains around her wrists. Jo pulled violently against the invisible chains only to feel a hard resistance. "No!" She growled struggling against her restraints. Something twisted her arms around her as if she was in a straight-jacket. "No," The sob escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her chest tightening as the walls pushed in on her, dripping in blood. The screams of tortured souls and the scratching of chains echoed in her ears. "No, no, no." She begged slumping against whatever held her back.

"Jo?!" Dean tried to break through her flashback, holding her wrists so she wouldn't scratch herself up even more. "Come on, baby. It's just me." He hushed her, trying to soothe her as she struggled against him. "Please Jo?"

Her eyes couldn't focus on one thing, the screams threatening to cause her to go deaf, the chains scrapping on the ground making her teeth grind. Blood caked on the cement walls around her, she was trying to run, anything, but she kept getting pulled back, "No!" She screamed, trying with all her strength to get away.

"Dean?!" Sam pushed his way through the door at Jo's yell. "What's going on?" He asked, his eyes widening at Jo. Tangled in the blankets, held against Dean's chest as she pleaded with him. Her words inaudible from her heart wrenching sobs.

"Glove box." Dean cocked his head toward the door not even sparing a glance at his brother.

Sam raced down the stairs to fetch the pill bottle from the Impala he knew Dean kept just for times like these. He took the stairs two at a time, not even noticing Chuck passed out on the coffee table.

Dean cradled Jo against his chest, "Baby, please," He begged, he didn't know what to do. He could only remember one other time he felt this helpless. Some days he could still smell her blood when he saw a propane tank. There was a vice positioned around his heart as he watched her struggle against him, "Jo please. Baby, please come back."

She pulled against him, trying to pry her way out of his arms. The more Jo panicked the more she tangled herself up in the sheets.

Jo could hear Dean's voice filter through the screams in her head, "No," she cried, slumping against a hard body behind her. "Please, not him. No." She begged. The screams of the tortured mixed with Dean's pleas, he was here with her. He was in hell, and it was her fault. She stopped struggling, laying still. "Take me, please, not him." She sobbed.

"No, no, Jo," Dean tried to pull her face to look at him. Her eyes were unfocused, far away. "No, it's not real Jo." He tapped her cheek with his hand, "Jo, snap out of it."

A splash of water came from above Dean, hitting Jo square in the face, soaking the sheets.

Jo blinked spitting water out of her mouth. She turned to look up at him.

"Sorry," Sam mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "You still need these?" He shook the pill bottle in his hand.

Jo shook her head slightly, letting her eyes roam over her surroundings. It wasn't real, she reminded herself. "It's okay," She whispered. She turned to look at Dean, her heartbreaking at the pain and worry in his eyes. "I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry." Sam shook his head, his words echoing in his head. "I shouldn't have..." He eyes caught Jo's stopping him. She glared at him shaking her head. "Uh... Chuck." He cocked his head toward the hallway.

"Yeah," Dean examined Jo's face, "We'll be down in a minute."

Sam nodded mutely as he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as the door was latched Dean cupped Jo's face in his hands, "Are you alright? Are you sure?" He searched her eyes for any sign, anything out of the ordinary.

Jo nodded, forcing a watery smile, "Right as rain."

"Yeah?"

Jo pulled his lips to hers briefly. "Yeah."

Dean pulled her to his chest, leaving a kiss on her forehead, "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." Jo whispered.

"I just... I didn't... I can't..." Dean tried, sighing as he just couldn't get the words out. "I love you. You know that."

Jo pulled back to look at him, cupping his cheek with her hand, "Of course. I love you too."

"Dean?" Sam's voice came through the door again.

"What?" Dean growled.

"Lacey called and Chuck's passed out."

Dean closed his eyes taking a deep breath as he tried to come up with another option. He couldn't leave her after what just happened, but he also couldn't take her with him. Then again, Jo hated Lacey, and she hates it when he babied her. When he opened his eyes and met with Jo's brown, he knew his answer. "Will you be okay? We'll only be gone for a little while."

Jo nodded, trying her best at a reassuring smile, "Yes, it's fine. I'll be fine. I promise."

Dean nodded, giving her the same look he did in Carthage. He pulled her face to his and left a kiss on her forehead, "You call me if you need anything, you got it?"

"Yes, go." She pushed at his chest, she balled her free hand around the sheets, trying to hide that it was still shaking. "I'm fine. I'll clean up."

Dean smirked looking around the room at their handiwork and leaned in to give Jo one last kiss.

Xxx

_Blood coated the walls. It dripped down achingly slow only to puddle on the cement floor below. Jo pushed herself into the corner, pulling her knees closer to her chest. Her chains screeched as they rustled against the floor with her movements. A metal door squeaked open slamming shut. The sole of rubber boots stomped their way across the room. Jo cringed as they came closer, knowing how the owner was. She prayed that this would be the day that he would just kill her. She prayed he would be quick. Jo knew he would be the one to break her, if any. _

_Lucifer leaned over her intimidatingly. "Well," He sucked in an unnecessary breath, "Looks like it's just you and me." He reached for a blood smeared lock of hair and twirled it around his finger. "Just you and me. Under lock and key." He smirked, pushing away from the wall, looking down at her with disdain. "You don't even know what you are do you?" He yanked on one of the chains roughly and pulled her into the middle of the room. "You have no clue." He aimed a kick to her ribs, letting her fly across the room. The sheer force of the blow causing her body to leave a crack in the cement wall. _

_Jo crumpled on to the ground, every gasp of air causing her ribs to crack even more. The sound of Lucifer's boots against the floor echoed the pounding in her ears. He pulled on her chains dragging her against the floor. He pulled her to a standing position, holding her still while he backhanded her. Not satisfied with the results, he aimed a punch to her stomach that brought her to her hands and knees. _

_He circled her like a shark, "Didn't your angel friend ever tell you?" Lucifer kicked her against the room, pulling her to the middle of the room again, repeating his actions. He rubbed his chin, "Maybe Father never told him," He mused as he yanked the chain pulling her only inches from him. "Interesting." He tossed her across the room. "That is interesting." _

_Jo rolled over on the ground only to see the bottom of Lucifer's boot. _

_Lucifer stumbled back, cocking his head to admire his handiwork. "Some key." _

Chuck gasped for air sitting straight up on the couch. "S-Sam?" He called out for the hunter. He stumbled off the couch reaching for the legal pad and pen. His hands shook, as his memory became foggy again. All he could write was _Jo = key_ before he passed out against the coffee table.

Xxx

"And then the next thing I know, I have this," Lacey explained lifting her shirt to show Dean and Sam the raised burn on her back.

Sam pulled out his phone, "May I?" At Lacey's nod, Sam snapped a picture of the strange symbol branded onto her back.

"Did you see anything last night?" Dean asked, "Anything strange or out of the ordinary?"

Lacey shook her head, "Not really, no. I just felt like I was being watched all day."

Sam's brow furrowed as he looked up from his phone, "Do you know Margo?"

"Margo Sullivan? Yeah, of course," Lacey nodded. "Her great-aunt used to own my house. It was abandoned for a couple of years before we bought it. You don't think Margo...?" She trailed off, covering her mouth with her hand in shock.

Dean eyed Sam, "Well, we are gonna need to do some more digging."

"Alright," Lacey wrapped her arms around herself, "What, uh, what should I do?"

"You should probably come with us." Sam nodded compassionately. "We don't really think it's a ghost anymore, so you should stay close to us."

Lacey nodded vehemently, "Yes, of course." Her eyes pooled with tears, "Let me just grab my things." She mumbled shuffling her way out of the room.

"It's not a ghost?" Dean whispered when he was sure Lacey was out of ear shot.

"Oh yeah, Chuck." Sam rolled his eyes at himself as he turned to his brother. The short ride over to Lacey's parent's house was spent berating Dean about Jo's flashback. "He had a vision last night. Margo's involved in this and so's this chick Ursila."

"Like from the Little Mermaid?" Dean asked cocking his head.

Sam rolled his eyes, this time at his brother's movie reference. "Not really, no. She's a witch, that's for sure though."

"Well, that's too bad," Dean tsked.

"It's not good." Sam agreed.

Xxx

Jo clutched her knees to her chest and let the spray of ice-cold water hit her skin like needles. She could still feel the heat of hell radiating off her.

She was exhausted, all the rush of extreme emotions draining her of any energy she had. Her head felt too heavy for her to hold up, she leaned her forehead on her knees, letting the water hit the back of her head.

Jo was so happy wrapped up in Dean's arms, euphoric even. And it slipped through her hands like grains of sand. All it did was served to remind her how fleeting everything is. They could never just be happy, not for a moment before all the shit hits the fan.

_No. _She thought, _It wasn't real, you will get better. These will stop._ She demanded of herself. She took a deep breath before she pushed herself to a standing position. Jo steadied herself against the pristine porcelain tiles.

"You're okay." Jo said out loud, "You will be okay."

xxx

Castiel smiled down at the blonde hunter. "She's getting stronger."

Arisella's brow furrowed. "She was just a withering mess not an hour ago. She cried the whole time she cleaned up the room." She pointed out.

Castiel turned to his sister, "Human's are different. Those who persevere grow strong." He looked back at the hunter and smiled again. "Look at her soul."

Arisella did as she was told and looked down at the hunter. Castiel was right, her soul was pulsing with light. It grew every second. She watched the young soul twisted and stretched trying it's best to fill every inch of her body. "I've never seen anything like it."

When a soul was pulled from perdition by an angel, it just sat in the host. It didn't grow, it didn't heal, it stayed broken. Even Death him self could not do this. It was pure creation.

"I know," Castiel marveled at the soul, "I don't think it was all Father."

Arisella's brows knitted as she looked up at her brother, "What do you mean? Father bringing her up could cause that." She pointed out.

"Yes," Castiel nodded, "But I didn't believe it would be this fast. It's only been a week and it has grown twice as large."

Arisella studied the young hunter. "Is it because she is the key?"

"I am not sure." Castiel looked far in the distance his mind whirling. "I must research something. Will you stand watch?"

Arisella nodded, honored at the offer. She bowed slightly accepting the task. "Of course."

Castiel patted her shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort, "Thank you, sister." He said before disappearing.

Arisella turned back to the hunter as she combed out her long damp blond hair. The angel refused to even dare to blink until Castiel returned. She would protect the Winchester's and the Harvelle woman with her life.

* * *

**So how'd you like it? Some of you have asked when I'm going to get back into my other stories and I will, it's just right now, I am hooked on this one! But I will get there. **

**Any way, so let me know how you liked it! Scroll down and tell me about it, tell me anything really, please JUST REVIEW. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

Jo poured her coffee, black, in the largest mug she could find. She sipped on it every so often as she wondered around the living room studying all the photos framed hanging from the walls. Chuck's snores were almost methodical, the only sound in the still house.

When she finally made it over to his sleeping form hunched over coffee table, trying to decide if she should wake him. she spied the legal pad under his head. She placed her coffee down gently on a side table and gingerly tip-toed closer to Chuck.

Jo placed her hand under the base of his head and lifted, pulling the pad out slowly. Accomplished she plopped down in the arm chair next to the couch flipped to the first page.

Three pages where filled from top to bottom with imagery, anything he had seen was described to the letter. Notes, names or landmarks, were marked with stars and arrows, were scribbled in the margins. She squinted at the cramped illegible handwriting, ready to throw the pad back where she found it.

But one name compelled her to read on. Margo. Margo Sullivan.

Margo was involved. Margo was a witch. Jo could feel her chest tightening and her guts twist at the thought. She felt instantly betrayed by her old friend. But then again Jo was the one to introduce her to the paranormal. She told Margo it was real. That it was possible.

She threw the legal pad down on the floor, putting her head in her hands. The slap of the papers slamming together jarred Chuck from his sleep.

"Whoa," He looked at her startled, "How long was I out?" He attempted to roll his neck around his shoulders but just winced at the effort.

Jo shrugged, too involved in her own self pity to look up at him. "I don't know." She mumbled against her hands.

Chuck eyed the pad on the ground, "Did you read that?" He asked pushing himself onto the couch.

Jo shook her head letting her hands fall in her lap. "No, not all of it."

Chuck nodded sympathetically. "Margo's your friend, isn't she?"

Jo nodded sullenly, her eyes filled with regret as she looked at Chuck. "I'm the one that told her about all this shit." She waived her arm above her head, "I told her about my family, about hunting, about everything."

"I guess you missed the part about witches." Chuck mumbled sarcastically.

"No," Jo hissed, her glare filled with venom. "Definitely hit that topic." Her words were short and clipped as she tried to reign in her temper.

Chuck watched her wearily as she seethed in the arm chair, "Well," He shrugged awkwardly, "If it's worth anything, I'm sorry."

Jo's shoulder's slumped as some of her anger receded. "Thanks." She nodded.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Chuck asked nudging her knee reassuringly.

Jo sighed, "Well, Dean and Sam are on their way back with Lacey now. She got some weird mark on her back last night."

Chuck nodded, "Yeah, I know." At Jo's furrowed brows he tapped one of his temples with his finger, "I see all."

"Yeah," Jo snorted, "You just don't remember shit."

"Touche." Chuck ticked his finger at her, "Anyway, I drew it in there." He said glancing at the legal pad.

Jo reached down and picked up the discarded papers, balancing the pad on her knees.

Chuck reached over and flipped a couple pages before getting his hand swatted away, "What, I'm just trying to show you." He squawked with agitation.

"Fine," Jo relented throwing her hands up, just wanting this exchange between them to be over, "Show me."

Chuck reached over slowly, when he was sure it was okay, his eyes turned slits as he glared at her, angrily flipping another page. "There." He pointed at a strange symbol in the margin, that Jo couldn't help but feel she had seen before.

"Huh." She turned her head sideways trying to get a different look.

"Do you know it?" Chuck edged closer as if trying to see what she was seeing.

Jo turned her head the opposite way, "I'm not sure." She whispered, "It looks familiar, I think." Jo shook her head, "I could have seen it in a book at some point," She tried to shrug it off, but she couldn't rid herself of the feeling that it was closer than that. She had seen this more than once.

"Sounds like you don't remember shit either," Chuck teased.

Jo looked up and meet Chuck's gaze with a fierce glare, "I don't care if you're a prophet of God or not, I will still kick your ass."

Chuck nodded curtly, his confidence quickly fading, "Noted."

"Go away." Jo demanded as he flipped back to the first page of the legal pad.

"Yup." Chuck propelled himself off the couch and into the kitchen.

A shiver ran up Jo's spine as he left the room. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about Chuck. Something big. She sighed staring down at the poor excuse for chicken scratch littering the page. Rolling her eyes she pushed the pad off her lap and slouched back into the chair. The heartbreak of Margo turning to the dark side still fresh in her mind.

Xxx

Margo's eyes widened in fear at the staccato sound of high heels hitting the pavement. The timing and the sound of heels was a noise that petrified her. Her heart began to race the closer they came.

They belonged to Ursila.

Long elegant fingers intertwined with hers as the woman that terrified Margo came into step beside her.

"Ursila," Margo's voice shook as she greeted the tall blond woman.

"I can feel your guilt a mile away." Ursila whispered as they continued to walk down the street. "It wouldn't be wise to back out now. The demon has already been summoned. He will come for her tonight."

Margo turned to the woman, fear and shame, pooling in her deep hazel eyes. "Jo's my friend, is all. I just don't want her to get hurt." She bowed her head in remorse.

Ursila patted her hand in an effort to be comforting. It only served to make Margo nauseous. "I understand. But the hunter's will just get in the way. The demon Corrupta will make short work of them."

Margo's breath hitched in her throat, the thought of her old friend being torn apart by a demon weighed heavily on her heart. "They'll try to save Lacey." Margo stated, the words stale in her mouth.

"Oh, I believe they will." Ursila concurred. "Corrupta has come across many hunters. I assume they will have the same fate."

xxx

"So, what do we know?" Dean asked leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Well Eleanor Dillan is Margo's great-aunt." Chuck noted, resting his head in his hand.

"That's where I've seen this symbol." Jo pointed to the scribble on the legal pad. "Margo had a necklace of hers." Jo pushed herself off the couch and rounded the coffee table. "Alright," Jo paced the living room, "So, Margo's a witch, in some coven, that summoned something to kill Lacey." She recited.

"Yeah, but it was Ursila that was doing the deed in Chuck's vision." Sam added, perched on the arm of the couch, he turned to look at Chuck in the arm chair. "Could she be possessed?" He asked.

Chuck rubbed his hand along his bearded jaw, "Possibly. She was pretty strong." He remembered how it felt as she threw him across the room.

Dean lifted his leg and dropped it on the coffee table, leaning back into his seat on the couch, "You get anywhere on those symbols?" He asked turning his gaze on his little brother.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, just a bit. It looks like they were summoning a demon called Corrupta." He picked up a book off the coffee table and handed it to Dean. "There wasn't much on the actual demon, but from what I could tell, it's brought forth to punish corrupt people. Or what the summoner considers corrupt."

"What?" Lacey squawked as she entered the room. "Who would think I am corrupt?" She pressed a hand to her heart, sincerely hurt by the accusation.

Jo snorted, "Oh yeah, who could ever think that," She mumbled to herself.

Lacey placed a manicured hand on her hip, "What was that Harvelle?"

Jo crossed her hands over her chest, "Are you kidding me?" She scoffed, "Do you not realize that you were a horrible person in high school?"

Lacey rolled her eyes, "Seriously? This is about high school shit? I was a kid and it was a long time ago. Why can't people just get over it?"

"You made four years a living Hell! I should know, I've been to Hell, and I would rather go through that again, then be anywhere near you for another second!" Jo seethed.

"Well, isn't that the pot calling the kettle black." Lacey crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Jo's stance.

"What are you talking about?" Jo sighed letting her arms hang at her sides. Her anger rolled it's way in her shoulder blades causing her back to tense.

"I thought only bad people went to Hell." Lacey smirked, satisfied, seeing the fire beginning to boil in Jo's eyes.

"You stupid mothe-" Dean leapt over the coffee table to hold Jo back from pouncing on Lacey, "Let me go!" Jo tried reaching around him to get at Lacey, "I'm going to kill her!"

"Yup," Dean heaved her over his shoulder, making his way to the front door, "figured that much." He tossed a glance at Sam before he opened the door. "Stay here, I'm going to take her back to the motel. Let me know if you need me." He called over Jo's shouts, slamming the door behind them.

"Some people are so sensitive." Lacey groaned turning back to her remaining guests.

Xxx

Dean jammed the keys into the ignition of the Impala, causing the engine to roar to life, "Well, that's the first time I've ever broken up a chick fight." He winked at Jo as he put the car into drive, "First time for everything, I guess."

Jo crossed her arms over her chest and slumped into the seat. "I hate her."

Dean chuckled, "She's not my favorite either, but she's paying us."

Jo glared at the road ahead of them, "Just doesn't seem worth it." She shook her head, "Maybe I should just sit this one out?" She suggested.

Dean scratched at the stubble on his jaw, he couldn't help feeling like it was a trick question. "Uhm, well, I think you should do what you think is right." He smiled at his own cleverness.

Jo's brows knitted as she turned to look at him. "That doesn't help me at all." She scoffed dropping her hands in her lap. Sighing, she picked at the dirt underneath her fingernails. "I'll just be on research duty." She resigned.

Dean reached over and patted her thigh, "If that's what you want."

Jo shoved his hand away with a laugh, "You're such a dweeb."

Dean laughed grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. "You love it." He said leaving a kiss on her knuckles.

Xxx

"How much time do we have Chuck?" Sam asked as he took his turn pacing the living room.

Chuck set the old ancient book he was studying on his lap, "Uh, half a day at least." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "It's going down tonight."

"Shit." Sam hissed as he ran a hand through his hair.

"My thoughts exactly," Chuck sighed picking the book up again.

Xxx

Jo pulled Sam's laptop onto the bed in front of her, opening it up and folding her legs under herself. "You should have at least let me hit her." Jo mused as she started her research.

Dean chuckled as he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge. "Sorry, sweetheart. Next time, I promise."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Jo warned, not taking her eyes off of the computer screen.

Dean took a seat in one of the chairs at the small kitchenette table, content to just simply watch her. He sipped on his beer, drinking in the sight of the woman in front of him. He loved everything about her. From her golden locks flowing down to just barely touch her elbows, to the way she would worry on her bottom lip when she concentrated, even the way she would just reach for his beer, just assuming he would share, as she did in that moment.

Dean smiled, of course he would. He pushed himself from the table and sauntered over to where Jo was sitting on the bed.

She looked up at him through dark lashes, her fingers brushing over his as she took the beer from him. "Thanks cowboy." She tilted the bottle to her lips with out taking her eyes from his.

Dean brushed a stray hair behind her ear, "Of course." His hoarse voice whispered. The tone of the moment instantly morphing from flirty to something more intense. Something tangible, an eruption of warmth that flooded through Dean's body. And in that moment he was never more sure of anything else in his entire life. She was his missing piece.

This girl was here to save him, just as much as he was to save her. "I love you." The words were a poor substitute for what he really felt, but where the only thing that came close to conveying it.

Jo's brows knitted, sitting up so that she was eye level with him. She put both of her hands on either side of his face. "I love you."

Dean rested his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest. He sighed contently as her closeness seemed to calm his very soul.

Jo instinctively pulled her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, more than happy enough to let Dean just hold her. The Roadhouse couldn't even touch the feeling of safety his arms provided.

Jo audibly groaned when a soft rapping came from the door, flopping herself back on the bed. The heat of the moment quickly fading.

Dean grabbed his gun off the table near the door, checked that it was loaded and the safety was off, and poised it behind his back, as he looked through the peep hole. His shoulder's slumped as he turned back to Jo. "I think this one's for you." He said as he pointed to the door.

Xxx

Sam tied a piece of twine around a tiny burlap sack. "Here," He said handing it to Lacey. "It will keep you safe." He explained.

She held it between two fingers her face twisted in disgust, "What is it?" She asked her brows knitting together.

"It's a hex bag. Keep it on you at all times," Sam instructed. "At least you'll be safe around witches."

"But what about demons?" Lacey questioned glancing back and forth between Sam and Chuck. "You said it was a demon." Her voice getting more shrill by the moment.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yeah, I did say that." He grumbled, regretting that decision.

"So, will it help against demons?" She pushed shaking the hex bag at him.

"No." Sam turned to her trying his best to calm her nerves, "That's what I'm here for." He smiled down at her.

"Oh god," Tears started to well in Lacey's eyes, "I'm going to die." She covered her mouth with her hand just as a sob made it's escape.

"You're not going to die," Sam rubbed soothing circles on her back, looking to Chuck for anything to help.

Chuck shrugged shaking his head, "Yeah, no, you're not going to die." He whispered, his voice wavering. Unfortunately his uncertain sentiment only caused her to cry harder.

Xxx

"Margo," Jo greeted as she pulled the motel door open, "What are you doing here?" She asked looking down the row of rooms making sure her old friend was alone.

"Can I come in?" Margo whispered, "Please," She urged when she saw Jo's trepidation. "I'm alone, I swear."

Jo nodded and moved out of the way so Margo could enter.

Dean took his seat at the table, laying the gun down, pointing in Margo's direction as she entered the room.

Jo turned to Margo as she finished locking the door, "What are you doing here, Margo?" Jo repeated herself.

Margo sighed as her hazel eyes began to swim with unshed tears, "I came to tell you I was sorry." She choked. Clearing her throat, she began again. "At first, it was just little pranks, making her life Hell, like she had made ours. Nothing to hurt her, just scare, or annoy her."

Jo took a seat with Dean at the table, ushering Margo to continue.

Margo looked down at her shoes, shame weighing down her shoulders. "Then Ursila came along. The coven wanted blood." She looked up at Jo meeting her strong gaze. "The demon Corrupta will possess Ursila, and she will kill Lacey."

"Then we kill Ursila." Dean stated absolutely.

Margo looked down sadly shaking her head ever so slightly.

Jo slowly pushed herself into a standing position, regarding her friend carefully. "Why are you telling us this?"

Silent tears trailed down Margo's face as she looked up at Jo. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't. And," She hiccuped a sob, "It's already too late."

The metal legs of Dean's chair scraped against the linoleum as he stood, "What do you mean it's too late?"

"Ursila has already been possessed," Margo cried, "She's on her way to Lacey's now."

Jo grabbed Margo by the shoulder's shaking her until their eyes met, "How do I kill it?"

Margo shook her head, "I don't know." She whispered, "I've only heard a rumor about a knife. A knife that can kill demons."

"Seriously? That's it?" Dean questioned disbelievingly, grabbing his gun and slipping it in his holster.

"Yeah," Margo's brows knitted together in confusion. "Not really an everyday item."

Dean took a final swig of his beer as he threw his jacket on. "Not really an everyday guy."

"Stay here." Jo warned giving Margo a final glare before she followed Dean out the door.

Xxx

Chuck pulled his body to lay on his back, groaning as shards of glass dug their way into his skin. He couldn't stop himself from musing that being thrown into a large picture frame was much better than the mirror.

His thoughts came to a halt as his vision cleared, zeroing in on an unconscious Sam slumped against the far wall.

The blonde woman from his dream stood in the doorway with a crooked smile on her face, her gaze fixated on Lacey, who was clawing her way into a corner to get away. Lacey's pleas for her life drifted to Chuck's muffled ears.

He tried to call out, to reach out to her, anything, but he couldn't find the strength to move his limbs. He was vaguely aware of Dean busting through the front door and shoving a knife in Ursila's back. The strange glow to her eyes as her body went limp was the last thing he remembered before his vision went black.

* * *

**Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you are still enjoying the story so far! I want to take a minute and thank those who have continued to review every chapter and have stuck with me; BlueGem22, TimeyWimey11, broodoverthere, deanandjo4ever1, Clary Darling, and angeleyenc. You guys have reviewed almost if not every chapter of this story. Thank you so much, you are absolutely brilliant and I love each and every one of you. **

**Again thank you all for keeping up with my story, I'm so happy that all of you are enjoying it. So please, please, just scroll on down, let me know what you think. Please, please, please, I live on reviews, so just do it already! xoxox **


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning, you may need tissues, depending on how good a writer you think I am lol. **

* * *

Sam brushed dust and glass off his clothes as he pushed himself off the ground, "Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be." He whistled as he received four pairs of eyes staring at him incredulously. "What?" He scowled brushing glass off his shoulder.

Dean shook his head rolling his eyes as he turned to face Lacey. "Well, looks like we're done here." He said wiping the knife off on his pants.

Lacey glanced down at the still body of Ursila and immediately back up at Dean, "What about that?" She pointed to the dead woman pooling blood on her flooring.

"Oh, uh," Sam interrupted coming to stand next to his brother, "We'll take care of that." He smiled reassuringly.

"We will?" Chuck squealed nervously from the couch, inching away from the dead body he was surely going to be touching in the near future.

"Yes Chuck, we will" Dean growled at him. He turned back to Lacey flashing a charming smile, "He's new."

Lacey shoved her shaking hands in the pockets of her jeans, "Okay," She nodded taking a shaky breath, "Well, thank you, I guess." She bowed her head slightly before she looked up at Jo. "And I'm sorry, by the way. I was pretty mean to you in school... and earlier today..." She trailed off shuffling her feet nervously, kicking around a stray piece of glass. "So, I'm sorry."

Jo nodded reluctantly. "Thanks, I guess."

Lacey turned reaching for an envelope in between a pair of books on the bookshelf behind her. She took a step forward handing the envelope to Jo. "Here." Lacey ran a nervous hand through her hair as Jo took the envelope, "I guess you won't be coming back into town anytime soon." She chuckled lightly.

Jo smiled tightly, "No, I don't think I will."

Lacey returned Jo's smile sincerely, "Well then, have a nice life," She giggled politely, then more seriously she added, "Good luck, Jo. With everything." Waving her manicured hand over the chaos of her once immaculate living room.

Jo nodded knowingly following Lacey's gaze. Her eyes stopped on a smashed picture frame of Lacey and Jack's wedding day. Jo smiled to herself knowing Dean would never leave her to clean up this mess, let alone leave her to deal with it's creator. No matter how perfect Lacey's life seemed, it wasn't even close to what Jo had. "You too, Lacey."

xxx

Margo was long gone by the time they got back to the motel. Jo wasn't surprised, she half expected to walk into an empty motel room.

Dean dropped his duffel bag on the table as he followed Jo into the room, shutting the door behind him. "We'll head out of here in the morning," He reassured her.

"Alright," Jo sighed as she slumped down in one of the arm chairs.

Dean watched as she leaned one elbow on the table resting her head on her hand. She looked physically exhausted and, more importantly, sad, "You okay?" He asked as he took a seat across from her, as he began pulling guns out of the bag to clean them.

Jo studied his methodical movements, pulling handguns and rifles out of the bag, laying them flat on the table, pulling them apart before finally meeting her eyes with his insatiable emeralds. Jo nodded, smiling just enough to reassure him, though the movement barely reached her eyes. "I'm okay. Just a little bummed is all."

Dean frowned as he nodded handing her a gun to clean. "What about?" He asked wiping down the barrel of the shot gun with an old rag.

"Margo." Jo answered deflated, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just," She paused, taking apart the hand gun. "I told her about all this stuff. About hunting, everything."

"You feel responsible." Dean finished for her, knowing the feeling himself all too well. "I get it, but you're not. Margo is a full grown woman who made her own decisions." He reasoned.

"I know that," Jo nodded, turning her attention back to the gun in her hands. "But it doesn't make me any less sad."

Dean stilled his actions to look up at her, a feeling of helplessness washed over him. "I'm sorry." Dean whispered. They were the only words that he could think of that could convey his sentiment, though they seemed to fall flat. Sam had always been better with comforting people, Dean was the tough and unreachable sibling. But with Jo around, Dean couldn't think straight, he couldn't find that confidence that normally got him through these kinds of situations. All his bravado was sucked away by just a glance from Jo.

Jo shrugged again, looking up from the gun to meet his gaze, with a true smile. She knew he had trouble expressing himself, or really any emotion at all, and the fact that he was trying, meant everything to Jo. Her heart squeezed with adoration at the helpless look on his face. "It's okay." She whispered back.

Dean reached for her hand across the table and Jo silently linked her fingers with his.

Xxx

"Phew," Chuck exclaimed as he threw himself on the bed. "I'm glad that's over."

"You didn't even do anything." Sam complained, tossing his duffel bag on the opposite bed. "You sat in the truck while I burned the body."

"I was the look out," Chuck defended himself, leaning up on his elbows.

"Yeah sure." Sam rolled his eyes, pulling the legal pad out of his bag. He dropped the pad on Chuck's lap and took a seat facing him. "Tell me about this key." He demanded.

Chuck's body sagged as he flipped to the last page he had written on, turning it around to show Sam.

"Jo?" Sam questioned, staring at Chuck's messy scribble. "She's the key? Key to what?"

Chuck shrugged flipping the pages to the front, "I don't know man, it was like a memory. Only it wasn't mine or Jo's, and it's kind of hazy now." He explained.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, "What do you remember?"

"Well," Chuck scratched at his scraggly beard. "Not much. Pain," He noted, "A lot of pain. And then some guy saying, 'Don't you know what you are?'" He lower his voice an octave to mock the voice, "And then, 'Some key'. Clearly taking about Jo."

Sam leaned back on his hands mulling over what Chuck had just told him.

"He was talking about Cas too," Chuck exclaimed as if just remembering. "Something about the guys dad not telling him something."

Sam cocked his head at that. "What?"

Chuck's lips puckered in his attempt to recall the words, "Something like, 'I guess Father didn't tell him' or something to that effect."

"It was Lucifer." Sam stated with out a doubt, his heart dropping to his stomach with the thought.

"How do you know that?" Chuck asked leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees.

"She's only been in contact with two angels as far as I know." Sam thought out loud. "Castiel and Lucifer." He ticked the names out on his fingers.

"What does that mean?" Chuck's brows furrowed as he tried putting the pieces together.

"I don't know," Sam rubbed the back of his neck, absently staring at the legal pad, "Did Jo read that?" He pointed to the discarded pad.

Chuck shook his head, "I don't think so. Or if she did, I doubt she got that far. She didn't say anything about it."

"Yeah, neither has Dean." Sam sighed, taking the pad and stuffing it in his duffel bag again. "Let's just keep this between you and me for now. When we get back to Montana we can tell them about it."

"Yeah," Chuck agreed, laying back on the bed, "Let's give them a bit of bliss before we rip it out from under them." His words dripped in sarcasm as he placed a hand under his head.

xxx

Dean watched Jo sleep in the iridescent glow of the television. He had taken turns between that and clips of an old football game. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, sighing, as Jo's eyelids fluttered as a dream played itself behind her eyes. He silently prayed that it was a good one. He flipped of the TV, groaning as he pushed himself out of the arm chair.

The glow of the blue neon motel sign out side cast the room in an opalescent haze.

Dean's eyes slowly scanned her sleeping form, clad only in one of his t-shirts and shorts. His gaze stopped short at her side where he knew there should be scars. There should be deep, dark, angry scars under that shirt.

Dean's mind kept flashing the vision of her being clawed open by the invisible beast. Her blood pooling under her on the speckled tile, while she looks at him with those hope filled whiskey colored eyes. Even then she still had hope.

He shook his head to dispel himself of those kind of thoughts. _She's here, she's alive. She's safe._ He repeated in his head like a mantra.

He pulled back the covers, crawling into bed and nestled behind Jo, pulling her to his chest. Jo turned, half asleep into his embrace. "Night," she murmured, laying a hand flat against his chest, her leg instinctively entwining with his.

"Night, Jo." Dean whispered as he placed a kiss to her crown.

Dean was never one for cuddling in his sleep with a woman, in fact he used to hate it. He just felt claustrophobic and trapped. But with Jo? The scent of vanilla and gunpowder surrounding him, he wouldn't be able to sleep any other way.

With her in his arms, he could forget everything. The monsters, the pain, the guilt, the loss, everything. Nothing else mattered but being here with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her impossibly closer.

Xxx

_The sun threatened to blind Jo as her black army boots kicked up dust on warn path splitting a meadow of tall grass in half. It reminded her of movies she had seen featuring an Irish country side, all hills covered in flowing green grass, only stopped by large jagged gray rocks forming walls along the small mountains of lush land. _

_She followed her feet down the path, trusting that they knew where she must be. _

_Birds started chirping happily in their trees as Jo rounded a large mound of Earth. She turned seeing a small hut made of long planks of wood and thatch appeared seemingly out of no where. Smoke poured welcomeingly out of the make-shift chimney. _

_A burly man with a bow hung over his chest stomped out of the small forest on the other side of the house. Jo was in clear view of the man, though if he saw her he did not acknowledge her. _

_A woman stepped out of the house and onto the porch, placing her hands on her hips, in a displeased gesture. Inexplicably, Jo knew this was anything but. The woman seemed to glow, so radiantly bright with love for the man in front of her. The man gazed back at her with the same look with a hint of pride. This was his family. _

_Suddenly, the sky's start to darken. An impossibly large storm cloud began to roll over the tree tops rapidly. The birds, once joyous and free, streamed across the skies trying to escape the impending doom. _

_The man's eyes grew wide with fear as he watched the woman on the porch in terror. She was surrounded by black menacing smoke circling her like prey. She clawed at the air, turning, trying to fight them away. They're demons. Jo tries to run to the woman, to yell to her, but her feet are glued to their spots and her mouth would not open. _

_Jo watched in horror as the woman was over taken by the demons, at least three of them trying to shove their way into this poor woman's body. The shrill, terrified screams of the woman pierced Jo's ears. Jo's heart shattered as the man fought with all he could to get to his love, only to be too late. _

_The woman dropped limply into her lover's arms, dead. The shadows of the demons flew off into the sky, chasing the storm cloud as it evaporated. _

_The man clung to the dead woman in his arms, pleading with anyone who would listen for her life to be restored. The cries of a child mingling with his sobs. He tore his gaze from the woman in his arms and toward the house, conflicted on where he was more needed. _

_He took one last longing look at his lost love before his large calloused hand wiped at the tears on his face. He scooped the woman up in his arms, and marched into the house. _

_Jo's feet turned away from the house on their own and continued down the same path. The long dark green grass slowly turned into wheat. The long thin golden stalks intermingling with the grass until there was no green in sight. The silver top of a silo shone like a beacon in the fading sun. Jo's feet began to quicken until she was in a full out run. She came to an abrupt stop at a mailbox, the name Ferris clearly written on it in a perfect scroll. Jo looked up at the small farm house. Ferris was her mother's maiden name._

_The slamming of a car door pulled Jo's attention down the driveway. A man exited his red 1957 pick up truck, slinging an old army duffel bag over his shoulder from out of the bed. _

_A woman stood on the porch wiping her hands on her apron with a growing smile on her face. She too glowed at the man, just like the last. The sun setting behind the barn in the distance giving the world as a whole a happier feel. _

_Dread began to pool in the pit of Jo's stomach as the storm cloud began to roll over the top of the silo. _

_Jo turned back to the scene in front of her, the howling of a dog calling to it's brother's out in the distance. Only Jo knew better. She knew it wasn't a regular dog. The stench of decay and death threatened to choke her as it came closer to the woman. A shiver ran up Jo's spine, hell hounds. _

_The woman pushed away from the man, her apron loosening from his grip. She jumped from the porch, running as fast as she could from the beast. She screamed for the man to run, to hide, to escape, until she was tackled to the ground. A spurt of crimson blood staining the golden wheat field. _

_A small voice screamed from the second floor of the house. A small brunette child stood in the window. _

"_Ellen!" The man screamed as he rushed in the house, the apron still clutched in his grasp. "No, look away!" _

_Her feet quickly shuffled back up the drive with out her instruction. Her eyes never left that second floor window. The small girl being swept up in her father's arms was the last this she saw before the wheat became taller. _

_She looked down at the path, watching her feet kick pebble after pebble, until it was nothing but gravel. Jo finally looked up to see the front door of Harvelle's Roadhouse. A black 1967 Impala was parked out front. Jo cautiously pushed the door open and stepped inside. The smell of beer nuts, blood and beer assaulted her senses. _

_A young Ellen Harvelle sat at the only table with a working light above it, a man with dark hair sat across from her. _

"_I'm so sorry, Ellen," He pleaded for her forgiveness, "You got to know I did everything I could. You and Bill are like family to me." He reached across the table to take her hand in his. _

_Ellen closed her eyes at his touch, a new wave of tears tumbling down her damp cheeks. She nodded taking her hand back to wipe at her face. "I know," She took a deep ragged breath. "But Bill is still dead." She pushed away from the table, the chair scraping angrily against the wood flooring, turning away from the man. _

"_Mommy?" A little voice came from the door way. A six year old Jo rubbed at her eyes with her fists, her pigtails from the day before a ratted mess of curls. "Is Daddy home?" _

_Ellen covered her mouth with her hand as fresh tears slid down her face. The thought of telling her six-year old daughter her father was dead, never even crossed her mind, she had been lost in her own grief. _

"_Ellen, I could-" The man at the table cleared his throat. _

"_No, John." Ellen cut him off, "I will take care of my family." She whispered before she turned to look over her shoulder at him pointedly, "You take of yours." _

_John nodded, bowing his head as he stood up from the table, quietly exiting the bar. _

"_Mommy, where's Daddy?" Little Jo's tiny feet padded over to her mother. _

"_Jo," Dean's voice was suddenly calling to the older Jo. _

_Jo looked over to Ellen and the younger version of herself and they continued with their moment unperturbed. _

"_Jo," He called to her again. Jo looked around the bar, as if he would just appear out of thin air. "Jo!" The bar around her started to shake, but nothing was falling, glass wasn't shattering, and the shaking only seemed to get worse. _

"Jo!" Dean shouted again, shaking her shoulders.

Jo's eyes fluttered open, as she glanced around the room sleepily. "What time is it?" She grumbled rolling over to look at the clock.

"It's almost eight. We're gonna go soon." Dean explained, "You sleep like a freaking rock," He complained, finishing his task of packing his bag, "I've been trying to wake you up for like a half hour."

Jo stretched out her limbs against the sheets, groaning with the movement.

"No nightmares?" Dean asked, zipping up the bag and setting it on the unused bed.

Jo scrunched up her face trying to categorize her dream, "Yeah, I would say that." Jo nodded.

"Good," Dean slapped at her bare thigh playfully, "Go take a shower, you stink."

Jo teasingly pouted up at Dean before she rolled herself out of bed and headed toward the bathroom.

Her thoughts constantly trailing back to her dream, she still remembered every step she took. None of it had faded in her mind like a normal dream would. This was up front and center of her thoughts.

She also couldn't help having an overwhelming, unexplainable, feeling that she had to tell Chuck about it.

Xxx

"Alright," Dean clapped his hands, "We all set to go?"

Sam nodded from the driver seat of Rufus' old truck, banging on the side, "Been ready, man."

Dean shook his head, "Don't blame me, dude, I'm not the one that _had_ to go to the diner for breakfast instead of getting it to go."

"Dude, we're _still_ waiting on Jo." Sam rolled his eyes leaning back into the bucket seat, "Will you go see what's taking her so long?"

Dean waved a hand at him as he made his way back to the motel room. "Don't touch my car Chuck!" He yelled as he spied the man looking at the Impala.

"What?" He yelled back faking innocence, then quietly, almost to himself, "I'm just admiring a beauty." He ran his hand up the side of her, tracing the out line of the door with his finger.

"Seriously, dude?" Sam questioned, "You too with that damn car."

"What?" He turned to look at Sam sheepishly, "It's a classic." He bowed his head in embarrassment as he made his way to the passenger side of the truck.

"Okay," Dean shouted as he burst out of the motel room, a wet haired Jo trailing behind him. "Now we are ready to go." He wrapped his arm around Jo's shoulder as she passed pulling her into his side, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, before they parted to get into the Impala. "I'll lead," Dean winked to his younger brother as the engine roared to life.

"Yeah, okay," Sam rolled his eyes putting the truck in gear and pulling out behind his brother.

No one seemed to notice that the amulet hanging from the review mirror of the Impala had become hot and burned its way through the rope that had held it for so many years.

* * *

**So just side note real quick, this thought "No one seemed to notice that the amulet hanging from the review mirror of the Impala had become hot and burned its way through the rope that had held it for so many years." in my head, started all of this. **

**Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing and sticking with this story. I am absolutely in love with the concept I have created for this story and I can't wait for you all to read it. We're getting pretty close to the end, I really hope you like where this is going so far! **

**Now, if you wouldn't mind, I mean, if you got time and everything, can you scroll down just a bit...just a tiny bit more, and tell me what you think. REVIEW NOW! 'Kay, thanks! **


	12. Chapter 12

_There shall always be a Key on Earth, for without it the balance of humanity will be tipped. The world will fall into utter chaos. _

Chuck's eyes fluttered open slowly. The wind from the cracked window of the truck gently rustled the hair on the top of his head. His brows furrowed as the words repeated themselves on a loop in his mind. He turned to Sam, gripping his arm suddenly.

"Whoa, still driving here." Sam yelped as he pulled his arm out of Chuck's grasp.

"Paper." Chuck said urgently. "I need paper."

Sam groaned, "It's in the back. Just tell me, I'll remember."

Chuck regurgitated the words repeating in his head.

Sam covered his mouth with his hand digesting the words. "What's that supposed to mean?" He pondered out loud. "That's all that was in your dream?"

Chuck nodded, "Yeah, just those words repeating over and over, no visuals, just words." Chuck reached over rolling up his window, "For awhile I thought it was you saying it."

"Fuck." Sam swore pulling out his phone. He flipped it over in his had chewing on his bottom lip. Chuck knew he was trying to decide if he should tell Dean now, or wait. "Shit." He flipped open the phone, pressed one and put it to his ear. "Hey, I need to talk to you about Jo."

xxx

Sam shoved the handle of a broom through the men's restroom door at the only rest stop for miles.

"Alright, what's going on?" Dean asked crossing his arms and legs as he leaned against the sink. Sam could tell by the way his shoulder's tensed that he was more worried then his posture suggested.

Sam sighed running a nervous hand through his hair. "I didn't really tell you everything about Chuck's first vision."

"First?" Dean spit the word out, "There's been more than one?" He growled taking a step toward his brother.

"Three," Chuck croaked. He cleared his throat, adding, "Technically."

Dean blanched at Sam. "And it's about Jo? What the fuck?!"

Sam held up his hands in surrender, "To be fair, we were busy with the job and we," He pointed to Chuck and himself, "didn't know what meant or that it was about Jo."

"And now you do?" Dean took another step toward him.

Sam took a instinctive step back. It didn't matter that he was taller, or possibly even stronger than Dean, he would still beat the shit out of Sam. He had enough childhood memories to know that an angry Dean was dangerous. "Kind of. Just let me explain." Sam pleaded.

"Floor is yours," Dean's words were so caked with irritation, Sam physically winced.

"Okay," Sam sighed, "Well in the first one, after all the crap about Lacey, he heard something about a key."

"___Gate keeper. The key. She is the gate keeper. She holds the key_." Chuck explained. "It had nothing to do with the vision, it was a just a high pitched ringing noise and then a voice came out of it."

"Okay?" Dean's brows furrowed in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chuck shrugged, "We're still not really sure."

"It wasn't till the second vision that we knew for sure it was about Jo." Sam continued the story.

"What was the second one?" Dean crossed his arms, rocking his weight from one foot to the other.

"It was someone's memory. He doesn't really remember much about it." Sam hooked his thumb over to where Chuck stood.

"No," Chuck's face was tilted down with a pensive frown, "I think I remember it." He looked up nodding at Sam, then turned to Dean. "Yeah, I remember it now."

"Well, out with it then." Dean urged, he had to fight to keep from tapping his foot.

"I was in the cage, or who's ever memory it was, and Jo was..." He winced sympathetically as he looked at Dean. "She was pretty beat up," Dean's head bowed, his shoulder's slumping. Sam could almost see the guilt piling on, weighing them down. "Lucifer, came in and was taunting her," Chuck continued. "He, uh, well, when she was unconscious, he said, '_Some key.'_" He finished.

"She's this key?" Dean questioned. "The gatekeeping key? What gate?"

"Don't know that." Sam interjected. "And then today, Chuck woke up with a message, _There shall always be a Key on Earth, for without it the balance of humanity will be tipped. The world will fall into utter chaos." _

Dean stood with a slack jaw, brow's furrowed, worry lines appearing on his forehead, "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?!"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and held up his hands, "Don't know, all we know, is that Jo's the key, or the Gatekeeper, or both. No clue, what the gate is, if it really is a gate or if it's just a metaphor, or what it's keeping." Sam rambled, his frustrations of the past night spilling from his lips. He ran a hand through his hair taking a deep ragged breath.

Dean raised his eyebrows, leaning back on his heals as he whistled. "Fuck."

"My reaction exactly," Sam muttered, leaning against one of the stalls. "So, what do we do? Do we tell her?"

"Of course we tell her." Chuck scoffed, looking at the two hunters, "We have to tell her. Don't we?" He received nothing but blank stares in return. "What if she knows something about it?"

"She would have told us." Sam stated, his brows knitting as he rethought his words. "Wouldn't she?"

"What reason would she have to tell you?" Chuck countered.

Sam cocked his head thinking about it. None. She had no reason to tell him about this, even if she did know. Him and Dean had seen her maybe a couple dozen times before she had died, and it's not like her and Sam were exceptionally close. Not then, at least. Then again, maybe she didn't know, maybe she was just as clueless as they were.

Dean shuffled his feet on the dirty tile floor, staring at the laces of his boots, "Wait till we get to Montana." He looked up at Sam, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, "Fuck," He sighed, moving around his brother, and sliding the broom handle from the door.

Xxx

"What was that all about?" Jo asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. Her jean clad legs were out stretched, crossed at the ankles, her bare feet hanging out the open window. "I thought only chicks needed to go the bathroom in groups."

Dean chuckled as he slid into the driver seat, he turned to make a smart ass comment back but was struck mute by her beauty. It had to be the sun setting in the back ground, Dean reasoned. That could be the only reason as to why she seemed to be glowing. Her hair was a wild mane of honey blonde curls, her skin perfectly peach, like a human version of a porcelain doll. Her eyes were bright, sparkling with the next quip, he knew would be on the tip of her tongue.

Dean stretched his arm along the back of the bench seat. "Come here." His raspy purr caused Jo to shiver. He curled his fingers for her to come closer.

Jo happily obliged, leaning on her hand to meet Dean in the middle of the seat. He met her lips with the same bittersweetness as he had in Carthage, the first time. Jo cupped the back of his head trying to deepen the kiss, trying to shove the sadness out of the kiss.

It was no use. Dean pulled back licking his lips as he turned his attention back to the Impala. He twisted the key in the ignition and put her in gear.

Jo pulled her feet out of the window as he began to pick up speed. She turned in her seat to watched him. His knuckles whitened as he readjusted his grip on the wheel. He would steal a glance at her every so often, feeling her eyes bore into him, and then turn back to the road.

"What's going on?" Jo asked, her voice barely a whisper, the wind almost muffling her words. She reached down, turning the window crack, closing it bit. "What happened?"

Dean turned to smile at her, the action never reaching his eyes, before he looked away again. "Nothing."

Jo glared at him. "It's something." She argued. She could feel the proverbial other shoe dangling above her head.

"No, Jo." Dean sighed, knowing that if she pushed the issue, he would more than likely tell her before they got to Rufus'. "It's nothing."

"It's clearly something."

"No, it's not. Just drop it."

"Fine, I'll just call Sam and ask him them." Jo reached for the glove box and pulled out one of the many cell phones there.

"Jo, cut it out." Dean demanded, his eyes bouncing back and forth between her and the road, "I'm serious."

"Then tell me what's going on." Jo held the phone as far away from him as she could.

Dean tried to swat at the phone in her hand, "Nothing's going on Jo." He concentrated hard on not to swerving into oncoming traffic still while trying to get the phone away from her.

"Let's just see what Sam say's," She flipped the phone open and began scrolling through the contacts. She hesitated before she pressed the call button, "Last chance."

"Jo," Dean growled through clenched teeth.

"Dean." Jo mocked, raising her eyebrows as her finger hovered over the button.

"Don't." He demanded.

"Why not?" She asked, "What are you so afraid he's going to tell me?"

"Nothing, nothing at all, just put the phone down." Dean tried to persuade her, putting on his most convincing smirk, "Come on, baby. Put the phone down."

Jo looked at him like he had grown a third eye right in front of him, "You're acting weird, I'm calling Sam." She pressed down on the call button and raised the phone to put it to her ear.

Finally with in reaching distance, Dean swatted the phone away, causing it to fall to the floor of the car and under the seat.

Jo wiped her head to look over at Dean, "What is wrong with you?" Quickly, she pulled her father's knife out from her bag next to her, and made a thin line of blood appear on the back of Dean's hand.

"What was that for?!" He cried out pulling his hand into his lap. Steering with his knee he dabbed at the blood with his shirt.

"I had to make sure!" Jo reasoned. "Jesus, why are you being so weird?" She leaned over the seat to look for the discarded phone.

Jo shuffled her hand under the seat feeling for the phone when she pushed something with her hand. It was small, but heavy. She patted her hand around looking for the small object, the phone completely forgotten.

Her fingers found purchase around the small metal object and pulled it out, "Hey," Jo called for Dean's attention. "Your necklace broke."

"What?" Dean's eyes flashed to the review mirror, the amulet wasn't there. He looked over at Jo as she held it between her fingers examining it.

She reached forward and picked up the black rope that used to hold it. "It..." She paused looking closer at the ends of the rope, then at the amulet again, "It's burned." She looked up at Dean with worry and confusion. "Didn't you say...?" She trailed off again, by the look on his face, he knew damn well what he said, and what that meant.

Dean was going to be sick. His stomach twisted and flipped. God. That meant God was near his car. He snatched the heavy amulet from Jo's hand and griped it in his fist.

Jo watched him silently, her mouth forming a small 'o', her brain reaching the same conclusion. "Dean?" She whispered to him.

Dean pursed his lips, grunting in response.

Jo bit down on her bottom lip nodding, shifting to sit correctly in her seat, her previous worries completely overshadowed by the new revelation. "Fuck."

Dean's heart raced as he pressed down harder on the gas petal trying to put as much distance as he could between him and Nebraska.

God was on Earth. God was here. Dean just couldn't wrap his mind around the concept. Why now? Why after all this time has He finally come around? The faster the Impala got the quicker Dean's blood boiled.

xxx

Castiel leaned back in the plush arm chair of Heaven's library. He gingerly held the piece of parchment in his hand. How could he have not known? He could have prevented all of this. He could have saved her. If he had just stayed with Ellen and Jo in Carthage, none of this would have happened. He dragged his free hand down his face, an action he had seen Dean do many times, surely out of worry and exhaustion.

He could clearly remember the desolate expression on Dean's face when he finally returned the Bobby Singer's that day. The heart wrenching sound of Dean's voice as he told Castiel what happened. _How could I have not known? _Castiel chastised himself. _I should have known._ He bowed his head with what could only be categorized as guilt.

Xxx

The remaining hour of the ride back to Montana was spent in silence. Neither Jo or Dean said a word.

Dean put the car in park and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

"What should we do?" Jo asked staring out at Rufus' cabin, not making any moves to get out of the car.

Dean shook his head, he leaned his elbow on the door, "I have no idea." He sighed rubbing a calloused hand over the stubble on his jaw. "If it's not one thing, it's another." He yanked on the door handle and pulled himself out of the car.

Jo gathered up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, following Dean into the cabin. She could hear the sound of gravel being kicked up on the dirt road before she shut the cabin door behind her. She knew Sam and Chuck weren't far behind.

Xxx

_The pungent smell of rock salt and blood filled the air. The florescent lighting of the abandoned hardware store cast everything in a harsh white glow. It all seemed too real to him, some faded movie he was watching in high definition. _

_He moved down an isle, turning a corner, the wet copper stench becoming unbearable. The twitch of a combat boot coming into view compelled him on further. The urgency of the atmosphere around him spurred him to quicken his steps. He had to witness this. _

_He stood at the end of the isle and gawked at the young woman sitting below the counter. Her legs were out stretched in front of her, her jeans covered in dust from the street and blood. Her hand grasped at her side as the red liquid slid through her fingers and puddled underneath her. Her brown eyes blinked slowly as she took several ragged breaths as a hunter held her blood stained hands. _

_His hair flopped in front of his eyes as he bowed his head to meet their joined hands. He looked up to meet her quickly fading gaze, nodding once, he placed her hand on her limp leg and took a step back. _

_Another hunter came to crouch down next to her, handing her a trigger, the wires trailing down her legs connected to at least four different propane tanks. _

_This hunter was different from the one before. He looked at her with guilt and sorrow, loss filled his body, pulling his shoulder's and his facial features down. _

_He frowned as he clasped her hand around the detonator. "Okay, here it is." He sighed, his words filled with remorse. Her chin trembled as he spoke, "I'll see you on the other side," He smirked, "Probably sooner rather than later." He smiled with regret. _

_She winced as she pulled a shot gun from the floor handing it to him. "Make it later." _

_He took the gun from her and laid it down next to him. He took her hand in both of his, rubbing the knuckle on her middle finger. She watched him with such concern and adoration, her eyes wide as the hunter met her gaze. She grimaced, and he nodded, a silent language that only they knew how to speak. _

_He brought his hand to cup her face, and pressed his lips to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her. He pulled back to look at her, memorizing every curve of her face, finally meeting his lips with hers. When the hunter pulled away he could see the unadulterated pain in his features. "Okay." He whispered as he wrenched himself away, standing back for the dying woman's mother. _

_The dying huntress, pleaded with her mother to run, to save herself. But the same compassion and love ran through her veins as well, she would not leave her daughter in her dying moment. _

_As the hunter's made their escape, the mother unchained the doors to the hardware store and shuffled her foot through the salt line on the floor. She slowly made her way back over to her daughter, turning on a propane tank as she went. She slid down the counter and wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulder, pulling her close. "I will always love you." She whispered, dropping a kiss on her child's head. _

_The girl moaned as her breathing became more labored, her last breath going unheard. _

_The mother choked back a sob, "I'll see you soon." She kissed her child once more, before she could feel the hot breath of the invisible beast. _

_The explosion threatened to blind him as he held up an arm to shield his eyes from the light. When it was over, every thing was on fire. The smell of salt and blood replaced by the stench burning hair and flesh. He could see two bright silver clouds exiting from the huntress chard bodies. One flourished as it floated through the ceiling and above, but the other, the brightest one, was immediately dragged downward. It fought and struggled to follow it's companion but could not shake the black cloud entrapping it and was pulled through the floor. _

_The instant the last cloud disappeared something shattered. Not a physical item, everything in the hardware store was shattering. But it was something in the air. Something that cracked. Something about the Earth was broken. The world seemed hazier, some how more depressing than it had been before, inexplicably darker, as if a switch had been flipped. _

"_Chuck," Sam's voice filtered to his ears, "Chuck, wake up." His shoulder's shook violently as the hardware store began to fade to black. _

Chuck's eyes shot open as he sat up straight in his seat. "Where am I?" He asked immediately.

"We're here." Sam answered rolling up his window. "Did you have a vision?"

Chuck ran an exhausted hand over his face. "I think I just saw Jo's death." He sighed scratching at his beard. "It was in a hardware store?" He asked cocking head to look at Sam.

Sam nodded sadly, "Yeah it was."

Chuck nodded. "I saw her soul get pulled down to Hell. And I felt..." He trailed off not really knowing how to explain it, "It felt like the world broke when she left." He scrunched his brow together, "Does that make sense?"

Sam nodded remembering back to that day, "Yeah it does. I think I felt it." He remembered dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as the store exploded. He had assumed it was because his friends had just died, he thought it was sorrow for Dean's loss at something that could have been great, he assumed he was just grieving. If he thought about it, that feeling was everywhere, it was larger than him.

The world did break that day.

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**Almost there guys... ; )**

**Thank you so much for reading this, I hope you're all with me still, everything is about to be explained, so if you have any questions that you want answered in the next chapter please let me know, I may just put something in there for you!**

**So at the risk of sounding like a broken record, please, please, please review. Whenever I get writer's block I always go back and read the reviews so leave me something to inspire me! **

**REVIEW NOW! Kay, thanks! **


	13. Chapter 13

The floor boards creaked as Dean paced the small bedroom of the cabin. Jo sat quietly on the edge of the single bed, her hands curling over the side of the mattress. She could feel Dean's anger rolling off him in waves. "Sam and Chuck are going to be here any minute." She whispered.

Dean nodded absently, stopping at the nightstand, uncurling his fist and letting the cold amulet fall on the wood with a pang.

Jo stared at the object as if expecting it to move. She jumped, pulled out of her thoughts, as the front door opened. She wiped her head around to the sound.

Sam lumbered inside, hefting his bag higher on his shoulder, Chuck shuffling his feet behind him.

"Hey," Sam greeted, his voice filled with exhaustion.

"Hey," Dean emitted the same emotion as he lowered himself onto the bottom bunk.

Sam dumped his bag on the kitchen table, glancing at Jo then back at his brother. "So, what's up?" The tension in the room was palpable, like a heavy haze hanging over their heads. "Something happen?"

Jo chewed on her bottom lip as she looked over to Dean. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

"Did you tell her already?" Chuck blurted, the anxiety filling the room clearly getting to him. He shifted his weight between his feet and shoved his sweaty palms in his pockets.

Jo cocked her head towards Chuck, her brows furrowing, "Tell me what?" She turned her gaze on Dean, "Tell me what, Dean?"

Dean expelled a tired breath, "Thanks, Chuck, no I haven't." He blew out, ignoring Jo's questions.

"Oh," Chuck's face flushed a bright pink, "Sorry."

"Tell me what?!" Jo exclaimed, her heart starting to beat faster with every antagonizing second.

"Might as well," Dean sighed to himself before he looked back over to Jo. "Part of Chuck's vision was about you."

"What?" She whispered, "What was it about?"

Chuck moved to lean against the back of the couch, "Well, I didn't know that at the time, but I heard a voice at the end, telling me that you were the Gatekeeper. A key of some kind."

Jo continued to watch the man, the expression of disbelief painted on her features.

"Then I had another vision. It was a memory. It wasn't yours and it wasn't Lucifer's but I was in the cage with you, watching him, well, kick your ass, pretty much. And once you had passed out he called you a key."

Jo looked down at her lap. "A memory?" She questioned, "Of when I was in the cage?"

Chuck nodded, "It was after Sam had left." He confirmed her silent question. "I would have known if it was him, this is some one different."

Jo pursed her lips as she looked back to the prophet then to Dean. "It was Michael's memory."

"He was with you too?" Dean asked incredulously, his stomach twisting it more knots. "Jesus Christ." He sighed bowing his head again. He could only imagine what that sadistic excuse for an angel, Michael had done to her.

Chuck nodded, taking in the information, "That makes a lot of sense." His mind flashed through the images of his vision, the self-righteous air, the nonchalant way of looking at all the violence around him. Of course it was Michael. "And then on the way here I had two more."

Dean's head snapped up to look at him, "Two?" He blanched. "You had another one?"

Sam nodded as he took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs, "Yeah, right when we pulled up."

Chuck looked back over to Jo, who hadn't taken her eyes off him, "The first one was just someone telling me something over and over. They said, ' _There shall always be a Key on Earth, for without it the balance of humanity will be tipped. The world will fall into utter chaos'. _Now I didn't really understand it, until the second one."

"What was the second one?" Jo whispered, desperate to hear more, but petrified of what he might say.

"I dreamed of your death," Chuck responded, noticing Dean's shoulder's square and the tension building in his back, Chuck clarified, "In Carthage, the first time."

Dean let a relieved sigh escape his lips as he buried his face in his hands.

Chuck again, turned his attention back to Jo. "I saw your soul get pulled down to hell. And I felt..." He paused trying to decide how to tell her, "I felt the world tilt." He blurted out.

Dean raised his head, his brows furrowing as he looked up at Chuck. He had felt it too that day.

"Something in the world broke when you died. You kept the balance." Chuck finished.

Jo leaned back on her hands, shifting her gaze to the wood planked ceiling, "So, you're telling me I'm this kind of key thing, that keeps balance on Earth?"

Chuck nodded, "Yeah, that's what I've been told."

Jo turned to Dean, "This is what your chick moment was about?" She asked referring to the mysterious stop at the men's restroom.

Dean nodded, "I thought it would be best if we waited until we were all together to tell you."

Jo bobbed her head up and down, absently chewing on her bottom lip. "Okay, so what does it all mean?" She took turns trying to meet the eyes of each man in the room, stopping on the prophet. "Why tell me this now?"

Chuck shook his head, "I'm not sure." He whispered, "It feels like I know," He continued absently, "It's on the tip of my tongue, I just can't..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, his temples starting to throb.

The room filled with silence, each person lost in their own thoughts.

Jo's mind drifted toward her dream from the night before. She knew it was important. It had to be. Every detail was still etched in her brain, she could still smell the grasses as a phantom breeze drifted past her face.

She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her shins, "I had a dream last night." She let out.

Chuck cocked his head to the side as he crossed his arms over his chest, "What about?"

Dean watched her intently, his eyes swam with worry and sadness, his face pulled down into a grimace. It was a face she had seen before. A face that would always make Jo want to cry. She turned back to Chuck. "I'm not sure if this is relevant. But it feels important." She began. "I saw, I, uh, well, I was in a field, and I'm walking, and I come across this house. This hunter comes out the woods and his wife comes out to greet him. It's obvious they love each other very much," She smiled as she remembered the looks on their faces. That sweet wordless exchange that only true lovers could do. She frown recalling the next part. "Then a rush of demons came and killed her, before the hunter could do anything." She glanced to Dean, whose expression remained the same. No doubt his mind was replaying that dreadful day in Carthage.

"Then what happened?" Sam asked quietly from the kitchen table, he sat on the edge of his seat, watching Jo with wide-eyed wonder. He reminded her of the young boy that had broken into her mother's bar with his brother.

Jo looked back down at her knees, "Well, then I heard a baby cry. The man carried his wife inside, and I kept walking."

"Where did you go?" Chuck's brows furrowed. He cocked his head, almost as if he knew the story, he just needed reminding.

"I ended up at my grandparents house. My mom's parents," She continued.

"She was killed by hell hounds." Chuck finished for her.

Jo nodded, "My mother saw from the window." She wasn't shocked that Chuck knew that, she expected him to. A crazy thought formed in her mind and she had to fight the urge to look at the nightstand.

"And then you were at the Roadhouse." Chuck continued.

"That's right." Jo confirmed.

"Wait," Dean raised a hand to stop them, "How the fuck do you know all this?"

Chuck shook his head, his eyes never leaving Jo's, "I feel like I saw this before."

Jo nodded, "Tell me what happens next." She challenged.

Chuck's expression never changed as he took a moment to gather his thoughts. A calm pensive frown. "You saw John Winchester telling Ellen that Bill was dead. You had walked in on them that night, when you were little. That was the last time John was ever at the Roadhouse."

Jo suddenly reached out and clasped the small amulet in her fist. She cried out in surprise, Jo was so sure she was wrong. It was impossible after all.

"Jo?" Dean asked as he knelt down in front of her, "What's going on?"

Jo tore her eyes from the average man in front of her, a look of confusion coloring his face, then down to Dean. She almost laughed out loud imaging what his face would look like when he realized. Jo took Dean's hand from where he had rested it on her leg and closed his palm around the amulet. His eyes immediately widened. He opened his hand looking down at the heavy item and back up at Jo, who nodded, answering his silent question.

Dean stood up to his full height, weighing the object in his hand before closing his fist and turning to face Chuck.

"Me and Jo found something in her storage shed." He exclaimed suddenly, taking a few steps toward Chuck, "I threw it out a long time ago, so it was really weird that it was there." He opened his fist, the amulet, left a pink out line of itself in his palm, the heat of it radiating into his skin. He held it up between his finger and his thumb and showed it to Chuck. "Do you remember what this is?"

Chuck's brows furrowed just for a moment, before recognition took over, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "Yes, I do." His voice calm, as if all the frustrations of the past few days had just dissipated.

The legs of Sam's chair screeched against the floor as he stood. "Is that?" He whispered, backing up to the rickety old counters.

"It sure is Sammy," Dean answered, turning his steely gaze back to Chuck. "You remember what it does?"

Chuck nodded, "I do."

"I betcha know what it's doing right now." Dean took another menacing step forward.

Chuck smiled, letting go of a laugh, "I can take a guess." He held out his hand to Dean, "Can I see it?"

Dean nodded reluctantly dropping the object into Chuck's open hand.

Chuck caught the object and involuntarily shivered with the contact, He smiled as He tossed it in the air and caught it again, "It's been a long time since I've seen this." He sighed.

"God?" Sam breathed the word as he placed a hand on the counter to steady himself.

Chuck, or God, turned and smiled at Sam, "Hello."

Dean leaned his hands on his knees, his heart beating out of control, "I'm gonna throw up." He sat down on the floor right where he stood, looking up at what had once been Chuck. "Have you always been God?" He asked.

"No, well, yeah, _I _have been, but Chuck was a real prophet." He answered, the small comforting smile never leaving his face. He shrugged before adding, "I liked Chuck."

Dean tried to wipe his face clear of the shock he truly felt, "What are you doing here?" He questioned, unsure he really wanted to know the answer.

Chuck snickered as He shook His head, "I think what you really meant to ask is why now." He smiled down at Dean with compassion. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long. I was a bit lost."

"I'll say," Dean snorted, pulling himself back to a standing position.

Chuck held up His hands in surrender, "I know, I know," He sighed, meeting Dean's gaze sincerely, "I really am sorry. I thought my children could handle themselves, that they didn't need me anymore. I was wrong." He explained.

"That still doesn't answer why you're here." Sam whispered from the kitchen.

Chuck smiled at him, pointing a finger at him, "Always perceptive." He nodded before turning his gaze to Jo. "I'm here because of her." Then back to Dean, and then to Sam. "And you two."

"Explain," Dean demanded, his hands balling into fists at his side. "You've let the whole fall to shit, and now you're going to be cryptic?" His anger getting the better of him as his could not stop the words from coming out.

"Dean!" Jo chastised, "That's God."

"It's okay, Jo." Chuck held up a hand to stop her, "He's angry with me, I deserve it." He moved away from the back of the couch and headed toward the arm chair, "Please," He gestured a hand for all of them to join him, "I'll tell you everything."

Sam glanced nervously at Dean before he shuffled his feet to the couch, perching himself on the furthest arm. Jo and Dean took a seat on the couch, leaving a seat open next to Chuck.

He chuckled lightly at their mistrust. "Okay," He mused, clapping his hands together, "Where to begin? Oh, alright, Jo I guess I should begin with you, hmm?" He smiled sweetly at her, "You are very special to this world. You are the Key to all humanity."

"What does that mean?" Jo interrupted.

"That means with out your soul on Earth, everything falls apart. Natural disasters start picking up strength and frequency. Wars wage all over the different planes, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Earth. Things get a little scarier with out a Key." He explained.

"Do I have super powers or something?" Jo's brows knitted together.

Chuck laughed out loud, "No, not unless you count compassion or your uncanny ability to have an argument for everything, no. You just merely need to exist."

"The dream I had," Jo wondered out loud. "They were other Keys."

"Key's, or gatekeeper's are always woman. It's passed down through blood, mother's to daughter's for thousands of years. Sometimes there has been numerous keys, one mother giving birth to many daughters, but there always must be one on Earth. You were the last." He continued. "I wasn't aware of this fact, until I returned to find everything in shambles. I pulled Michael out of the cage, and that's where I found you."

Jo knotted her hands together in her lap, "Michael disappeared ten years before I left."

Chuck bowed his head regretfully. "I'm sorry for that. The timing needed to be just right."

"What timing?" Dean glared at the man, his anger at him growing knowing that He left Jo in Hell longer then He should have. "What the fuck where you waiting for?"

"You." Chuck turned to Dean, his brows raised, trying to emphasis his point. "You needed to return from Purgatory. I couldn't return her to not be protected. That's you were created for."

"I thought I was supposed to be Michael's vessel." Dean spit the word at him through gritted teeth.

Chuck shook His head sadly, "I left Michael in charge, and the power just went to his head. He saw an opportunity and he overwrote some of your fate. He couldn't change all of it, so you and Jo were still destined to meet. He just wrote over it, overshadowed it, if you will." He shrugged, "But you are a warrior, a protector. Of her." He pointed to Jo. "A Key always needs a warrior." He winked at Jo, "Even if they can take care of themselves."

Dean instinctively wrapped an arm around Jo's shoulder's bringing her to his side, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

Chuck smiled adoringly at them, "See, I made you perfectly for each other, the only wrong place, wrong time, was all Michael's doing. If it weren't for him, things would have gone a lot differently. Dean you never would have had to sell your soul. Sam never would have gotten hooked on demon blood, sorry," He added, as Sam's cheeks colored with embarrassment, "And the apocalypse never would have happened. Ellen would be here, Bobby, hell, even Rufus and John. You would have continued your lives, hunting like normal, just with each other." He bowed his head again, "Jo was never meant to die, at least not for a very long time, at an old age."

"All the shit we've been dealing with for years has all been because of Michael?" Dean leaned back into the couch as the realization sunk in.

Chuck nodded solemnly, "He has been punished for his crimes."

"Why are you telling us all this?" Sam asked as he toyed with the frayed hole in his jeans, too afraid to look up a the deity in the arm chair.

"Because you all deserve to know why. And I want you to know that it's all going to be okay." He smiled, leaning forward trying to catch Sam's eye. "I'm going to make everything right."

"How you gonna do that?" Dean asked incredulously. "Everything already happened."

Chuck winked at Dean, "The Lord works in mysterious ways. You'll see." He snapped his fingers, and a small pitter-patter began playing on the roof. It was raining. It hadn't rained in Montana for over three months, and the pang on the tin roof just kept speeding up. "Rest here the night, then I suggest you go home." He smiled, before he disappeared, a clap of thunder announcing his departure.

"What home?" Dean questioned out loud, he hooked his thumb to the now empty arm chair, "What the fuck is He talking abut?" His mind flashed an image of Bobby's house, but it was different. It seemed... pleasant. More colorful, as if that was more real then the actuality of it.

"Bobby's?" Sam whispered, his gaze zoning out on the window, "Is it Bobby's?" He asked turning to the both of them.

Jo nodded, "I think so." She looked up at Dean, "Didn't Bobby's house explode?"

"Yeah, but..." Dean cocked his head at Sam, "I feel like that's wrong."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, that definitely doesn't sound right."

"So, South Dakota tomorrow?" Jo asked glancing between the two brothers, who both nodded in approval.

Xxx

The three hunters had retired early that night, all too exhausted to even sit. Sam claimed the bottom bunk and Dean shared the twin bed with Jo. They all slept pleasantly, none of them having nightmares of Hell or Purgatory, no relived deaths of loved ones, but instead a vision of what life would have been.

John Winchester had managed to kill the yellow-eyed demon that had taken his wife's life two decades prior. Sam never died and Dean never had to sell his soul. After the demon was finished, Sam went back to school and completed his degree, Dean commenting that it would never hurt to have a lawyer in the family. To his credit, he was right. Multiple times.

John retired from hunting, purchasing the vacant lot next to Bobby's and building a house. He continued to help Bobby with the junk yard, opening it up for body work as well, and of course with research and the phones. Occasionally he would help the boys out with a rather difficult case, but he mostly worked as a mechanic at the Singer lot.

Dean remained a hunter. He was born to be one, there was no doubt about that. And he loved the job. He and Sam had taken a job in Philadelphia, where they found a young inexperienced blonde hunter they had met in a bar off a back road in Nebraska. Dean knew immediately that he needed to protect her.

After that case, Dean would frequent the Roadhouse more often. To check in on her, make sure she was safe. Their courtship was slow, both to stubborn to fall too easily. But eventually they did.

A few years later, the Roadhouse moved to South Dakota. Ellen had purchased the land on the opposite side of Bobby's and set up shop. Claiming they were all wasted gas and time, traveling between the two places. Herself included, as an awkward romanced had brewed between the saloon owner and the cranky old man, Bobby.

The drive to South Dakota was relatively unchanged, some buildings and stores were different, but nothing else really. Every new thing, making the smiles on the hunter's faces widen, as a memory would play in their minds, confirming that this was a reality. Everything was as it should be.

Dean slowed down in front of the gate to the Singer Junkyard. There sat proof that it all wasn't a dream. Three mail boxes, each with a name. Singer, Winchester, and Harvelle. Gravel kicked up behind the back tires as he slammed on the gas.

* * *

**Well, that's all folks. I have been kicking around the idea for a sequel kind of thing, but I'm going to give it a few days, see what comes up ; ) **

**I hoped you all liked it! Please, tell me what you think, and if you have anything you think should be in the sequel, if there is one, please tell me! **

**Now's your last chance, scroll on down and give me a review! Thanks so much for reading! **


	14. Part II: Harvelle's Roadhouse, Nebraska

**I'm back! I couldn't decide how I wanted to go about this story, so I decided that I would just continue it in the same one. The chapter's will more than likely not be as long as they have been previously because the chapters in 'Part II' are what the memories should have been. Hope you all enjoy! **

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"She's got a daughter around your age, don't... Just don't be yourself. Be respectful. Ellen was a close friend of mine, the last thing I need is you to go and break her daughter's heart."

Dean Winchester squinted into the sun as he looked out the window at the rundown bar, situated off an old country highway in Nebraska. Dust from the parking lot coated the wood planked siding half way to the roof. Paint chipped off the window frames, he could barely see white gauzy curtains hanging from brass rods through the dirty windows. The place looked deserted. "Are you sure this is the spot?" He asked his father as he craned his neck trying to find any sign of life.

John nodded, not tearing his gaze from the front door of Harvelle's Roadhouse. "Yeah," He croaked, "This is it."

Dean watched his father wearily out of the corner of his eye. Ever since John had killed the yellow-eyed demon, he had been on a quest to apologize to all those he had wronged. He was like a determined alcoholic completing one of his twelve steps. "It doesn't look like any ones here, Dad." Dean sighed, this was the last stop of many and he was exhausted. He was tired of meeting all these old hunters, constantly trying to duck flying fists or dodging bullets.

John didn't reply, he yanked the door to the Impala open and started across the dusty gravel lot. He hesitated only slightly when he reached up to lightly rap his knuckle against the window on the door. He bowed his head patiently as Dean came to stand behind him, waiting silently for someone to answer the door.

A full two minutes passed before Dean sighed, "Dad, no one's here." He insisted, moving to get in to his father's line of sight, "We can call her from Bobby's."

John shook his head, lightly pushing his son out of the way, he picked a key from his key ring. The same key ring with the one for the Impala, John unlocked the door, closing it behind Dean and then locking it again.

Both hunters scanned the room, their eyes falling on a man passed out on the pool table.

"That's not Ellen, is it?" Dean smirked up at his father.

John's face was devoid of any humor. He shook his head, pointing over to the kitchen, then pointing to Dean and down at the floor, a stern expression on his face.

Dean waved him off, rolling his eyes. When John disappeared behind the swinging door, Dean took a good look at the place. It wasn't much different from any other back woods Midwestern bar. It had the brown rustic wood tones, complimented nicely by blue and white plaid fabrics. The smell though, that's what really got to Dean. Beer-nuts, beer, and gunpowder. He smiled, turning in a slow circle, there were three pool tables in back, one poker table to the right of the bar, an old jute box next to that, and four dining tables, the chairs neatly placed upside down on the tops.

Dean turned his gaze up to the bar, that's when he first got a glimpse of her, a streak of blonde behind his back. That's when he felt it. "Oh God, please let that be a rifle." He groaned putting his hands in the air.

"No, I'm just real happy to see you." The snide remark came from behind him.

His ears perked up at the octave the voice was in, a devilish smirk forming on his lips. "You know, miss, you shouldn't put a gun right against someones back."

"Oh, yeah? And why's that?" She purred from behind him. The room echoed with the sound of her cocking the rifle.

His smile widened, "Because it makes it real easy to do," He spun on his heel expertly taking the rifle from her shocked hands. "This," He smirked at her as he disengaged the gun. He could see the fire burning in her whiskey brown colored eyes, her blonde hair curled past her shoulders, shining with any light in the dim room that it could find. It was like a halo, she must be an angel, he thought absently. Dean was so distracted by her face, he failed to notice her arm cocking back to hit him.

His vision immediately blackened as his hands went to his face instinctively, dropping the guns into her waiting hands.

"What the hell?! Ah, Dad!" Dean screeched cupping his hands over his nose, "I can't see," He blinked wildly, "I can't even see."

"Joanna!" A woman's voice shouted from behind the swinging door to the kitchen. An older brunette woman pushed through the door, her shoulder's squared, hands already on her hips. "Joanna Beth, put the damn gun down."

As Dean's vision began to clear, he could see his father smirking at him from the doorway to the kitchen. "I see you met, Joanna." John chuckled at his son, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder.

"Jo." The petite blonde corrected him. Her hands curled around her hips, Dean's gaze drifted to her bare mid-drift where her hands had landed. Her jeans were dangerously low, just giving a coy peek at her toned stomach. The muscles forming a 'V' on her pelvis, Dean couldn't stop himself from thinking about the point at the end of that 'V'.

"Sorry, Jo." John smiled at her, "It's been a long time since I've seen you. You sure have grown up." At the look of confusion on Jo's face, John turned to his son, resting an arm on his shoulder's. "This is my son, Dean. I'm John. Dean, this is Ellen and Jo Harvelle."

"Winchester?" Jo asked quietly as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, you've heard of us?" Dean smirked at her, resulting in a quick swat to the back of his head from his father.

"Once or twice." Jo nodded never lowering her gaze from Dean's. She had heard the name around the Roadhouse frequently over her lifetime. Either someone telling a tall tale or cursing the name, they were always talked about. Dean particularly, no one seemed to think very highly of his old man, but women, especially women, always had something to say about Dean. Jo was not stupid, nor was she going to be another notch on his bedpost.

His gaze dragged up her small, tight form, his father's earlier words coming to haunt him. She was gorgeous. He smiled as his eyes finally met hers, the fire still smoldering in her almond eyes.

Jo had to admit, he was incredibly good looking. His gaze alone was making her want to take just a few steps forward. He was like a magnet to her. No man she had ever met before had this sort of pull on her. She bit down on her bottom lip as she took him in. Black army combat boots, form fitting jeans she knew hid muscular legs, her eyes pausing just slightly over the t-shirt pulled tight over his chest. Jo looked back up, her cheeks blushing just slightly, as she was met with a devilish smirk.

Ellen and John looked between their two children and then back at each other, rolling their eyes.

"Joanna, why don't you wake Ash and start opening up?" She asked placing a hand on the small of her daughter's back, guiding her away from Dean.

"Dean, go wait in the car." John demanded.

"What?" Dean baulked up at his father.

"Car. Now." John pointed to the door, with a stern look on his face.

Dean rolled his eyes, readjusting his coat and squared his shoulder's before he marched out to the Impala.

Jo could see him lean against the passenger side door and cross his arms. "We'll be in the back, Jo." Her mother had called out to her, Jo just waved a hand over her shoulder, continuing her work of taking the chairs off the tables.

Ash groaned as he rolled himself off the pool table. Stretching his arms above his head, he surveyed the room. "What'd I miss?" He croaked tiredly as he helped Jo with one of the tables.

"The Winchester's showed up." Jo shrugged making her way behind the bar. "John's in back with mom."

Ash scratched at the stubble on his jaw, "Well I'll be damned." He leaned back to get a clear view out of one of the windows. "Is that Dean?"

"Mmhm," Jo hummed as she wiped down the bar with a dish rag.

"Hm, shorter than I thought'd he be." Ash thought out loud.

It was almost a full month before Jo saw Dean Winchester again. John had brushed past her, making a bee-line to Ellen behind the bar. Dean sauntered up to her, "Just couldn't stay away could you?" She cooed, one hand on her hip, one hand balancing a tray.

"Well, you just can't beat the Harvelle hospitality." He quipped, "How've you been?"

Jo bobbed her head, "Good, good," She looked behind Dean as a tall man came to stand next to him, "And who might you be?"

His floppy brown hair fell in front of his eyes as he bowed his head bashfully, "I'm Sam."

Dean clapped a hand on Sam's chest proudly, "This is my baby brother."

Jo chuckled lightly at the irony of Dean's statement. "Why don't y'all have a seat at the bar, I'll bring ya a beer." Jo winked as she passed Dean to make the rest of her rounds, before meeting them back at the bar.

"So what brings you into town?" Jo questioned as she set two beers down in front of the brothers.

Sam grasped the beer with two hands, "Uh, I'm on break from school, and Dad's working a job." Jo thought she spotted a bit of bitterness before he took a generous swig of his beer.

"I see," Jo nodded thoughtfully as she absently wiped the bar in front of them. She cocked her head toward Dean, "Doesn't that mean that you're working a job too?"

Dean smiled as he set down his own beer. "Now, what makes you think that?" He smirked at her, she gripped the counter below the bar the second she felt her knees start to shake. "Can't I just be here to visit?" He licked his bottom lip before he flashed her a cocky grin.

Jo could only imagine what he had managed to get away with in his life with that smile. "Well you and your dad are partner's right?"

Dean nodded, "That's right."

Sam sat back on the stool, nursing his beer, clearly enjoying seeing his older brother get chastised by the small blonde bartender.

"Then shouldn't you be working?" Jo leaned on the counter raising an eyebrow at Dean.

Dean squinted at her, taking another large gulp of his beer. He stood from the stool and followed the same path his father had made down to Ash's room.

Sam let out a laugh before he turned to look back at Jo, "You must be the one that punched him."

Jo's eyebrows knitted together, "He told you about that?"

Sam shook his head vehemently, "God no, he actually denied it. My dad told me."

Jo nodded, "Yup, that was me. I'm Jo." She said extending a hand out to him. "We weren't properly introduced before." She added with a shrug.

Sam smiled, apparently it was hereditary, Jo wondered if John's had the same effect. "Nice to meet you Jo." He let go of her hand and clasped his beer bottle, "So how long have you known my brother?"

"Not long, the last time I saw him, I hit him." Jo shrugged picking up the rag again to busy her hands. "Why do you ask?"

"It just seems like you've known each other longer." Sam explained nonchalantly. "The way you guys act around each other."

Jo shrugged not quite knowing what Sam meant.

It wasn't until closing time, when Dean was the only one in the bar as she began to close down did she start to see it. She turned on her favorite song on the jute box, just to receive a grimace from him.

The easy bickering, the back and forth banter, arguing with him was fun. It was exciting and playful. Something she couldn't quickly forget. The butterflies still flapping their wings furiously in her stomach as she tried to sleep that night.

Of course, all three Winchester's returned for a victory beer after their job was finished. Sam again took a seat next to Dean, and John disappeared with her mother in the back.

Jo leaned across the bar handing Sam a beer, eying him down and she passed Dean one as well. Dean caught Jo's pointed look at his brother and gave Sam one of his own.

Sam looked in between Jo and Dean, "I, uh, I need to go... over there." He mumbled sliding off his stool and shuffling his feet toward the pool tables.

"So," Jo blurted as she reached her hands across the wood top of the bar. "Am I ever going to see you again?"

Dean picked at the label on his beer, looking at Jo through his dark lashes, "Would you want to?"

Jo shrugged, puckering her lips, "I wouldn't hate it."

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**I know I'm a broken record, but if you could just review it would make me feel amazing and I will write more, I promise! **


	15. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Dean had to admit, the hunt hadn't quite gone as he had expected. He smirked over at Jo as he adjusted the funnel from the cement truck, "What?" He asked coyly, "I'll give it back."

Jo laughed at him and he could feel his chest start to warm. He shook his head as he watched the cement fill the manhole.

Jo showing up was a complete surprise, although it shouldn't have been. After the fight him and Sam had walked it on between her and Ellen, well, he would have done the same thing. Dean winced thinking about the phone call he had with Ellen earlier. Jo was going to be pissed.

Dean looked up at the young blonde. Her wavy hair hung loosely around her shoulder's, every so often a breeze would blow a strand across her face. His arm ached to push it behind her ear, the promise he made to his father was the only thing that stopped him. For some reason he found it was getting harder and harder to keep.

Jo looked up, feeling his stare on her. Her brows knitted and her lips pouted ever so slightly as she cocked her head to the side.

Dean shook his head avoiding her silent question.

When they got back to the apartment to gather their things, Ellen stood waiting in the middle of the living room, tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest, and a scowl that could turn anyone to stone.

"We're leaving now." Jo bowed her head, Ellen didn't even have to say a word.

Ellen just nodded and marched out into the hallway.

The ride back to the Roadhouse was even worse. It was as silent as the grave, Dean had tried to break the tension, but his attempts were all unsuccessful.

At the mercy of God, Dean finally pulled into the gavel parking lot off an old country highway. He was never so happy to see the Roadhouse.

Ellen yanked the passenger side door open and proceeded to enter the bar. Jo sighed before she slid out of the car herself, her head bowed, shoulder's hunched, as she followed her mother inside.

Sam leaned his arms over the front seat, "What do we do now?" He asked watching the Roadhouse wearily. "Should we wait?"

"For what? Gunfire?" Dean asked incredulously, his eyes never leaving the front door. "They did get pretty heated before we left." He thought out loud, though it didn't really matter anyway. His mind was already made up. He was staying, he knew it from the minute Jo got out of the car. Dean was determined to make sure she was alright. Leaving never crossed his mind, that is, until Sam mentioned it.

"Do you want to stay?" Sam grinned as he leaned closer to Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Do you want to go? We can go right now."

Thankfully, Sam didn't have time to respond, Jo chose that moment to storm out of the Roadhouse.

Dean got out of the car immediately and began trotting after her, "Hey, that bad, huh?" He asked as he got closer.

"Not right now." She said as she kept walking.

"What happened?" He asked walking next to her, she shook her head and began to walk ahead of him, "Hey, talk to me," He said, pulling on her wrist to stop her.

Jo slid her hand out of his grasp, "Get off me." She snapped.

"Whoa," Dean held his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, I'll see you around." He mumbled starting to walk backwards to the Impala. Anger started to boil in the pit of his stomach, he waited out here for her just to make sure she was okay and this is what he gets? This is what happens when you try, he thought kicking a rock with his foot as he turned back to the car.

When he turned on his heel, Jo took a deep breath, "Dean." She called out. He stopped right where he was, not making a move toward her. Jo quietly swallowed a small amount of pride before she took a step toward him. "Turns out my Dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone, so did the other guy. But I guess my Dad thought he could trust him." She threw him a water smile before she looked up to the sky before she met his eyes with the fire he knew, "It was a mistake, the guy screwed up, got my Dad killed."

Dean shook his head, trying to process what he was telling her, "What does that have to...?" He drifted off glancing back at the Roadhouse.

"It was your father Dean." Jo blurted out.

"What?" Dean whispered, not quite sure he had heard her right.

"Why do you think he didn't come back here? Why he didn't tell you about us? Why he still doesn't come around?" Jo had to fight the urge to stomp her foot, "He can't look my Mom in the eye!" Her hands curled into fists at her side.

"Jo," Dean began, only to get cut short by Jo.

"Just go." She demanded, but at the broken look on his face she softened. "Please... go. Just leave." Jo took one last tearful look at him before she turned around and walked into the garage on the far end of the parking lot.

Dean stayed in that spot until he couldn't see her anymore. He couldn't explain why he felt something break inside of him when she finally slammed the door behind her.

Dean drove like a mad man all the way back to South Dakota. He didn't say one word to Sam. When his brother asked what happen Dean just jammed the radio on and peeled out of the parking lot. Gravel flying through the air.

When he finally pulled up to his father's house, adjacent to Bobby's, he threw the driver side door open and marched into the house.

"Dad!" Dean shouted as soon as he yanked open the front door.

"I'm in here, Dean." He heard John's calm voice coming from the study in the back of the house.

Dean threw open the ajar door to the office, seething.

John looked up from the book he was reading, not bothering to take his reading glasses off, "What are you yellin' for, boy?"

"How come you never told me about Bill Harvelle?" Dean asked bluntly. He was vaguely aware that his brother came to stand behind him in the hall.

"What are you talking about?" John slid his glasses off his face, placing them gently on the top of the desk.

"I'm talking about Bill Harvelle." Dean clarified, irritation dripping from every word, "If you were such good friends, how come I never heard of him before we went to the Roadhouse?"

John stared up at his son, his face devoid of any emotion. "Sounds to me like you know why."

Dean took a seat across from the desk, "I'd like you to tell me."

John leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, "We were hunting a werewolf," He began with a heavy sigh. "Bill was bait and I messed up. Blew his cover and he got mauled. After I finally killed the damn thing Bill was..." He trailed off, that day replaying in his head. "Bill knew he could have lived, but he would have changed. He asked me to kill him. It took me an hour to pull the trigger." He looked down at his folded hands in his lap. "The last thing I promised Ellen was that I was gonna bring him home alive."

Dean's anger at his father faded ever so slightly. He couldn't really be mad at him. John only did what he thought was right, what Bill had wanted him to do. "Bill asked you to shoot him?" Dean questioned.

"He gave me his knife to give to Jo." John looked back up at his son. "Also to tell her that he loved her very much, and I have yet to tell her that." The guilt weighed on John, his features pulled down with the gravity of it. He turned a steely gaze to his youngest son. "I am not proud of the decisions that I have made hunting Azazel." He sighed bowing his head again, "She's just so much like him. He was my best friend."

Dean leaned back in his chair, dragging a had down his face. She hated them now.

"I take it Jo found out what really happened." John sighed closing the book he still open on his desk.

"Yeah, needless to say she didn't take it well." Dean groaned. Every cell in his body shouted to fix this, to call her, anything. But he just sat there. Nothing he could say would make this go away.

John watched the guilt weigh on his son's shoulder's. "Dean, you shouldn't feel guilty about this, you weren't the one that pulled the trigger."

Dean shook his head, "No, I'm just the son of the man who did." He pushed himself out of the chair and brushed past Sam on his way up to his room.

He didn't go back to the Roadhouse. What ever spark that had ignited in Philadelphia had been snuffed out by his father's mistake.

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**How ya like so far? Good? Bad? Let me know! REVIEW! **

**By the way I'm not on crack, I already had these all written up while I was trying to figure out what to do with them. **


	16. Duluth, Minnesota

"I don't need your help Dean," Jo groaned, trying to shove the overgrown child off of her. "I know what I'm doing."

He never called after a demon wearing Sam's body attacked her. Instead a week later he showed up on her doorstep, saying if she has such a death wish she should at least be prepared. That's when Jo agreed, regretfully, for him to train her.

"Yeah and that's why the safety's still on." Dean rolled his eyes. "Just face it sweetheart, you're just not cut out for it." Dean ducked as her fist came swinging toward his face. "Not this time, Harvelle." Dean tsked at her, catching her wrist and twisting her into his arms, as he crossed her arms over her chest.

Jo jammed the heal of her boot on his toes causing him to release her. "I'm more than a right hook." She quipped getting into a boxing stance.

"I'm not gonna hit you, Jo." Dean rolled his eyes as he watched her bounce back and forth on the balls of her feet. The tank top she wore really did not help his vow to be a gentleman. She was clearly tempting him.

"That'll make this real easy then." Jo lunged forward taking another swing. Dean once again ducked out of the way.

"I'm serious, Jo. Don't do something you're going to regret." Dean put up his hands to block her next move.

"What are you gonna do about it, Winchester?" Jo taunted. He had been riding her ass all week and she thought she had done a pretty good job tolerating him. Well, at least up to this point. Right now, all she wanted to do was punch him in his smug mouth.

Jo took couple more swings, which Dean again dodged.

"Do something!" Jo shouted, her frustrations getting the best of her. She caught him off guard and clocked him in the jaw.

He reeled back watching her, as his eyes narrow to slits. "Oh, I'll do something," Dean growled. He charged toward her taking her hands in his and pinning them above her head against the wall behind her. Her breath fanned out hot against his face as she licked her lips.

"You gonna do something?" She taunted, batting her eyelashes up at him.

"Yeah," Dean whispered nodding his head, his eyes never leaving her plump pink lips. With out a second thought he slammed his lips against hers, his hands drifted down her arms, to her sides, resting on her hips, digging the tips of his fingers in to pull her close. Jo's arms wrapped around his neck, sinking her pelvis into his, elicting a deep growl from Dean. She tilted her head to give him more access, opening her mouth.

Dean's hands roamed around to cup her ass, pulling her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He used the wall as leverage, and made his assault down her neck. It wasn't until the hot whisper of his name drifted over his ear that he came back to reality. He pulled back, setting Jo down on the ground. "I'm sorry," He mumbled rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm not," She whispered, her fingers ghosting across her swollen lips.

Dean shook his head, "You deserve better."

"I think I know what I deserve." Jo argued, her shocked expression quickly morphing into a glare.

"I think you're wrong." Dean pointed a finger at her before he turned and walked out of the room.

The next day, Dean resumed her training as if nothing happened. He didn't touch her for weeks unless they were sparring. Once she got the Winchester seal of approval Dean left, with another promise that he would call. He didn't.

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	17. River Pass, Colorado

Jo knew Rufus had called for back-up. She knew with out a doubt that he would call Bobby, and Bobby would call a Winchester. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would actually show up. Not that they really needed up, nothing they couldn't handle. Rufus thought they were over their heads, Jo had just rolled her eyes.

Two years. Jo hadn't laid eyes on Dean in two years. And there he was riding in like a knight in tarnished armor.

She squinted up at the sun from her seat at the park bench. Even from this distance she could still hear Rufus and her mother argue about something while they packed up the car. She leaned her head back to feel the heat of the day on her face. Too many late night stake outs has made her skin almost translucent.

"So, you're a full fledged hunter now?" Dean interrupted her thoughts as he took a seat across from her. She didn't have to look at him to know he had a shit-eating grin on, she could hear it in his voice.

"I'm not an amateur anymore, that's for sure." Jo deadpanned, using his words from so long ago against him. "Got the Winchester seal of approval, didn't I?" She turned her head so she could meet his gaze.

Dean nodded almost remorsefully, accepting the jab, "You did good out there."

Jo placed a hand to her chest, "As I live and breath, did Dean Winchester just give me a compliment?" She teased.

Dean smiled bowing his head quickly before looking back up to her, "There's a first time for everything isn't there?"

Jo smiled back at him sincerely, "I suppose there is. Now if I could just get you to admit when you're wrong."

"That'll never happen," He said pointing a finger at her, "When I call you for back up, you better be ready?" He smirked standing from the table, "I'll see ya around, sweetheart."

"In your dreams, Dean-o." Jo smiled to herself as she once again leaned her head back to soak up as much sun as she could.

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**I know this one is super short and I'm sorry, but I'll make it up to you, I promise. Just effing review all ready! **


	18. Carthage, Missouri

The nurse pursed her lips as she took Jo's vitals, the only sound in the room was the soft muted beeps of the heart monitor and Jo's labored breathing. "She's lucky, you know." The nurse said into the silence. "If you hadn't been there she would have bled out for sure."

Dean leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair he sat in and sighed, "Yeah, lucky." She would have been lucky if he had never walked into the Roadhouse all those years ago.

The nurse watched him over her shoulder. "I'm serious, without you she wouldn't be alive." She turned back to her ward, readjusting the IV, "She seems pretty lucky to me." She added with a shrug.

Dean just nodded, he was in no mood to argue with a stranger. As the nurse exited the room, he returned to his silent vigil of watching Jo's chest rise and fall achingly slow.

He lost all sense of time in that room. Never once glanced at the clock, didn't turn on the TV, didn't read a newspaper, he just watched her for as long as he could before his eyes would involuntarily close, and he would sleep for a short time. Nothing else.

"Dude," Sam exclaimed as he entered the room with two steaming cups of coffee. "I finally got Ellen to go to the motel and rest, don't make me drag you out of here too." He smiled reassuringly as he handed his brother one of the cups.

"Thanks," Dean croaked as he accepted the cup.

Sam knew, as well as Dean, there would be no getting him to leave this room until Jo did.

Sam eased himself in a chair next to Dean. "She wouldn't want you sleep deprived or going hungry because of this." He mentioned quietly as he sipped on his coffee. "You're making yourself sick. Have you slept for more than a few hours since she's been here?"

Dean sighed dragging a hand down his weary features. "It wouldn't matter if I was here, or at a motel, or at Dad's. I would be doing the same thing." He groaned before he turned to his brother. "I'm not leaving here with out her."

Sam nodded resolutely, he knew if Dean vowed to do something, he wouldn't rest until it was done. "Yeah, I figured that's what you were going to say." Sam absently watched the heart monitor, "So, when she wakes up, are you going to tell her?"

Dean's brows knitted together as he turned to Sam, "What are you talking about? Tell her what?"

"That you're in love with her?" Sam asked incredulously, apparently it had been obvious to everyone but Dean.

"No I'm not," Dean scoffed, his cheeks lightly coloring with the thought.

"Yeah, that's why you haven't left this room in three days." Sam argued. "We had to tell the hospital you were her husband just so you could stay."

Dean leaned back in his chair. He didn't know that they had done that, he hadn't even thought as to why the hospital hadn't thrown him out yet. Worry started to bubble in the pit of his stomach as the fact that the word 'husband' hadn't made his skin crawl. Being Jo's husband actually sounded kind of nice. He looked down shuffling his feet on the shiny linoleum, sighing. "She's just a really good friend. I care about her is all." Dean explained, though the sentiment was lost.

"Sure." Sam responded taking another sip of his coffee. "And I'm the queen of England."

"Pleasure to meet you, your majesty." Dean quipped putting his cup down on the table next to him, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You laugh now," Sam chuckled, "Just wait till she wakes up, cause if you don't tell her, I will."

Dean whipped his head to argue with his little brother but Sam stopped him.

"You both deserve to be happy, and you're a moron for not telling her sooner." Dean went to argue again, but Sam held up his hand. "Please, you've been in love with her since she punched you in the face."

"She's just a friend." Dean repeated, watching her sleep, not even bothering to cover up the lie better. She wasn't just a friend. She had never been just a friend. Deep down Dean knew that.

Sam clapped a hand on Dean's leg as he stood. "Sure. You should try talking to her, I've heard that helps coma patients." He moved over to the side of the bed and whispered something in Jo's ear that was too muffled for Dean to hear. "I'm going back to the motel. You may not be tired but I'm exhausted. I'll check on you both later."

Dean waved a hand as his brother left the room, turning his eyes back on Jo. Her skin was still an ashen pale color that he would give his soul just to make blush again. He reached his hand out, and slipped it under her still one.

He clasped her hand tight in his, the realization that it fit perfectly did not go unnoticed. He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Sam was right. He was completely, irrevocably, in love with her. "I love you, Jo." He mumbled against the skin of her hand. "And I am so sorry. Just please wake up. Please."

He shut his eyes tight against his memories from the other day, he knew that her screams would haunt him for the rest of his life.

They had gotten a call about a wendingo in Carthage, Missouri, for some ungodly reason, he let Jo come with him. Hell, he needed Jo to come with him. John was on a case of his own, Ellen was busy with the new Roadhouse, Bobby needed to be on the phones and Sam had an ongoing lawsuit in Sioux Falls he was working on. Jo was his only choice.

The wendingo had caught them off guard. It had tackled Jo from the side and tore into her with its claws. She screamed his name as she went down. The unadulterated fear in her voice was something he would never forget.

He had seen red in that instant, knowing she was hurt, he turned and shot the wendingo straight through its temple, gathered Jo in his arms and ran back to the Impala.

"It'll be okay," He murmured against the top of her head as he pulled her close to his chest. "You'll be okay."

Jo groaned in agony at the movement of the car, on the rough terrain of the woods.

Dean sped through the small town, running every light that attempted to stop him.

Her blood had soaked through the front of his shirt, and dripped from his hands and he layed her on the gurney once inside the hospital.

"Please, you have to save her," He begged the doctors who handed him a scrub shirt to change into.

The same nurse that had taken care of Jo the last few days pushed him back to give the doctor's more room. He never did catch her name. "We'll do what we can." She exclaimed trying her best to hold him back, "Please, sir. We'll do everything we can." She repeated over and over in her struggle.

Dean grasped her shoulder's in his hands. "Please, she can't die." He let her go leaning his hands on his knees, "Please," He choked back a sob, "Just... Please." He pleaded with anyone that would listen.

"We'll do everything we can, sir." The nurse said more gently than she had before as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll let you know what's going on." She guided him to the small waiting room to the right and ran after the doctors rushing Jo into the ER.

John and Ellen had pushed their way in to the ER waiting room an hour after Jo had been taken to surgery. Dean propelled himself out of his chair, meeting Ellen halfway, her eyes were wild with worry.

"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I got her here as fast as I could. She lost a lot of blood, but they said that it didn't tear any of her organs, just a lot of muscle. The cuts were pretty deep. I'm so sorry." Dean begged her as he caught her outstretched arms. Her fingers dug into the skin of his forearm with desperation.

"I'm a match for her, I can donate blood," Ellen looked up and down the hallways erratically, as if Jo was just going to walk out and wave to her. She didn't even register Dean's pleas for forgiveness.

"Ellen, I already did. I'm a match too." Dean put his hands on both of her shoulders. "She's going to be okay."

Ellen had collapsed in his arms, the fear of loosing her only daughter just too great. Dean wrapped his arms around her, keeping her standing, he gently moved her to sit in the chair he had once occupied.

"I'll get you some coffee." Dean said running a shaking hand through his hair.

John eyed his son carefully. Dean's nerves were obviously shot, his hands shook as he shoved them deep into the pockets of his jeans, shuffling his feet, just to keep moving. They were actions John knew all to well, he had done them for over twenty years.

"I'll walk with you." John said to Dean, clapping a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

They had walked down to the cafeteria in silence, gotten three cups of coffee, and Ellen a sandwich. Dean adamantly refused any food.

"You should at least eat something," John urged, watching his son wearily.

"Not hungry." Was Dean's answer every time.

John just pursed his lips as he wrapped and arm around his son's shoulders. "She's going to be okay, Dean. You said so yourself."

Dean nodded slowly, "It's still my fault she's here." He slipped out from under his father's arm and walked back to the waiting room with out a word.

Ellen didn't bring it up for a day and a half.

Dean knew that John had told her about their conversation. He could see it in her eyes as she looked at him.

She brushed Jo's hair out, braiding it to the left side. "I don't blame you, you know that right?" She asked not looking up from her task. "I know Jo wouldn't either."

"I know." Dean whispered, because he did. It just didn't change the fact that he still, for what ever reason, felt at fault.

Ellen took a seat next to her sleeping daughter, running a hand down the side of her pale face, brushing the fly-sways of blonde behind her ear.

"I'm glad she was with you." Ellen smiled as she turned to look at Dean. "That if it had to be anyone, I am so thankful that it was you. I have no doubt in my mind that you wouldn't hesitate to protect her with your life." She turned to smile back down at Jo. "She's lucky to have you." She scoffed to herself, "A Winchester, of all people. The rings her daddy would've had you runnin' through."

Dean smiled, though the action didn't reach his eyes, as he continued to watch Jo sleep.

It was five full days before Jo woke up.

She blinked around the room slowly, the bright florescent lights fogging her vision. She rubbed at her eyes with her left hand, the hospital room slowly coming into focus.

Dean was leaned back in a chair, pulled close to the bed, his head tipped back as he slept, his fingers entwined with hers on her right hand. He was wearing the same clothes from the day they went on the hunt, the only difference was the teal scrub shirt he wore under his trademark flannel. By the wrappers on the table next to her, he hadn't moved for hours, possibly days.

She looked at the calendar on the far wall, a week, she had been out for a week. It couldn't be.

She reached for the call button and a nurse gently knocked on the door and entered.

"You're awake," She smiled, padding her way over to the bed. "Oh, and he's asleep," She whispered as she got closer. "I don't think he's slept more than an hour in four days." The nurse checked Jo's vitals, "I told his brother that I would give him sleeping pills to stick in his coffee if he didn't crash soon."

"How long have I been out?" Jo croaked, taking a sip of the water the nurse handed her.

"Slow sips," The nurse instructed, "Almost a full five days. Your husband hasn't left. Not once. You're a very lucky girl." She winked at Jo. She pulled down the blankets to show Jo the bandages on her left side, "The mountain lion that attacked you thankfully didn't hit any vital organs," She pulled the blanket back up and tucked her in, "I'll be back in about 20 minutes with the doctor and to change the bandage for you."

"Thank you..." Jo cocked her head to catch the name on her ID. "Kate."

Kate smiled down genuinely at her patient. "You're very welcome." She patted Jo's knee as she passed, throwing a devilish smirk Dean's way before slamming the door a bit harder than she needed too.

Dean's eyes shot open, his hand instinctively tightening around Jo's. "Hey there sleepy head," She whispered as his eyes searched the room for a threat.

Dean was immediately on his feet, leaning over the side of the bed, "You're awake," He smiled down at her, pure joy shining back in his emerald orbs. He took a seat next to her, careful of her IV, "You are a sight for sore eyes, Harvelle."

"Right back at ya Winchester." Jo responded, wincing as she tried to sit up.

Dean put out his hands to stop her, "Don't try to move, it's just going to hurt."

Jo plopped back against the bed, letting Dean press the up button on the bed so she could sit up. "What happened?"

Dean smiled as he brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "I'll tell you later." He cupped her cheek and placed a kiss on her forehead, he leaned his forehead against hers for a moment before adding, "I'll go get your mom."

"Dean?" Jo called out as his hand encircled the door knob. She opened her mouth to say more. To tell him she heard him, anything, but all that came out was, "Thank you."

Dean nodded, "Anything for you Jo." And he was gone.

Ellen rushed in the room only minutes after Dean had left. Jo reached out her arms to her mom and Ellen didn't even take a second before she had her daughter in her arms. "Oh God Jo. I'm so happy you're awake." She sobbed as she ran a hand through Jo's hair.

"The nurse said that Dean's my husband? Do I have amnesia too?" She asked pulling back from her mother.

Ellen rolled her eyes as she took a seat on the side of the bed. "Lord no. We had to tell them that because the idiot wouldn't leave your side."

"How long was he here?"

"The whole time." Ellen brushed Jo's hair behind her ear, "He never left. Refused to, actually. Barely slept. He just sat there and watched you."

Jo's brows knitted together, "Really?" She turned looking at the chair he had once occupied. "Well that was nice of him." She said slowly, not really sure how she should feel about that.

Ellen chuckled quietly, "Don't think he did it for you, sweetheart."

Jo cocked her head at her mother, "What do you mean?"

Ellen sighed, standing as the nurse came into the room, "You are just as blind as him aren't you?" She teased winking at her daughter.

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**I personally love this chapter, what did you think? Just scroll on down and tell me! **


	19. Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Jo groaned as she pushed herself up on her bed. It had been two days since she left the hospital and no one would let her leave her room. Ellen had even given her a walkie-talkie for when she needed something so she didn't have to get up.

She was finally able to swing her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the pain on her side as her feet finally touched the floor. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Dean smirked leaning against her doorway.

Jo snapped her head up to look at him, she hadn't seen him since she woke up and was beginning to think it was a dream. "Oh, yeah?" She winced as she inched over to the edge of the bed. "And why's that?"

"Well, because I'll help Ellen tie you down to the bed. The doctor's said you needed rest." He said moving to stand in front of her offering his hands.

Jo placed her hands in his and pulled herself up to stand with a yelp of pain. Dean wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her standing until he knew she was steady on her own. "A lot of people say a lot of different things." She sighed watching his face go from worry to confusion. Jo tried to take a step away from him but her knees buckled an he caught her again. She let go a sigh of frustration, "I need to be able to walk!" She growled at her unwilling body.

Dean wrapped her arm around his shoulder's, "Come on, I'll help you. Just lean on me and I'll walk with you."

"Where we going?" Jo smirked up at him as he took cautious steps.

"Anywhere you want."

They spent twenty minutes walking through the house to get to the porch, Dean matching Jo's small steps. He lowered her down into one of the oversized rocking chairs and took a seat next to her. Sighing in content as he rocked back and forth.

"Where were you?" Jo asked quietly as she played with the hem of her worn out AC/DC t-shirt.

"Oh, I, uh, had to work a job." Dean answered, although it was plausible, it didn't quite ring as true.

"I see," Jo nodded going along with his lie.

"Yeah, I had to leave pretty quickly," He elaborated.

"Uh huh. It wouldn't have anything to do with what you told me did it?" Jo turned to look at him.

Dean bowed his head and watched as he cracked his knuckles. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mmhm." Jo hummed. "I just really hope you didn't tell me what you did because you were afraid I would never wake up."

"Jo," Dean began, but she cut him off.

"Cause that would really suck, because I heard you. And I..." She trailed off, not sure if she actually wanted to say it out loud. She didn't want to make it real. Real just came with complications.

"You what?" Dean whispered his eyes now boring into her.

Jo shrugged looking out at the junk yard in the distance, to the right she could see Sam making his way from the Winchester house to Bobby's.

Dean nodded knowing she wouldn't answer until he did. "It's true, I did say it because I was scared." Jo bowed her head in disappointment at his words. "But, it doesn't make it any less true." He reached over and slipped his hand into hers. He pulled her hand up to his and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "I don't ever want to do that again," He whispered meeting her gaze from over her hand. "I can't sit by your hospital bed again. I can't do that."

Jo pulled her hand from his and cupped his cheek, "I'm sorry. Won't happen again."

Dean leaned into her touch, "You can't promise that."

Jo placed her hand back in her lap. "No, but neither can you." She looked out into the distance again, "Who's to say I won't be the one sitting by your bedside telling you I love you. We have no guarantees."

"I can't loose you." Dean whispered quietly.

"You didn't."

"I almost did."

Jo smiled as she looked over at him, "Almost doesn't count."

Dean leaned over and brushed stray hair from her face. "I love you."

Jo leaned into his hand lingering on her face, "I love you too. Jack ass."

Dean's smile widened as he closed the distance between the two of them, leaving a chaste kiss on her lips. Dean's gaze was pulled over to his father as he called and waved for Dean to join him in he garage. "I'll be right back." He stood from his chair, making his way toward the steps, before he stopped and tuned back toward her. "You know, before I do that." He leaned down in front of her, cupping her cheek and meeting his lips with hers for kiss that caused Jo to see stars. "I've wanted to do that for years," He whispered in her ear before he galloped down the steps and toward his father.


	20. Part III: The End

**Well, this is it guys, the REAL last chapter. I want to say a quick thank you for all of those that have reviewed and followed this story. You guys are near and dear to my heart, thank you all so much, you have no idea what all your support and kind words have done for me. This is my absolute favorite story that I have written and I couldn't have done it with out you. Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy. **

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"Actions speak louder than words, and to know my father, you had to pay attention. He was a man of few words.

My father was a difficult man, if you could even say that. He was righteous, bold and often wrong. But I was a Daddy's girl through and through.

I was born Mary Ellen Honey Winchester, although I was called Honey, to avoid confusion, for those of you who don't know. My parents were Jo Harvelle and Dean Winchester.

In the right circles, I was almost famous. At least they were. Everyone knew them. Even now that I'm an adult, strangers will still come up to me and tell me something about them. That I look just like my mother, or my father, or how they had saved their lives once. No matter what it was, they new I was theirs. I was a Winchester and it was obvious.

I can remember being five years old sitting in Grandma's bar when I would hear it rush by. That familiar rumble of thunder only the Impala could produce. My head would snap up to meet my mother's gaze. She would wink at me and I would be out the door. Racing through the gravel cul de sac, past Grandpa Bobby's and behind Grandpa John's, kicking up pebbles the faster my small legs would go.

He would be gone for weeks with out a word. At that time all I knew was that my father was a hero, he was saving people. I would beg him to not to go, to stay with me, but he would just give me that look.

He would bow his head and take my small hands in his large calloused ones, "You know I have to. I never want to leave you. Don't make it harder Honey."

I would nod sadly and he would tuck one of my curls behind my ears.

"You'll see me sooner than you think."

This time had been longer. Too long. Even Mom was started to get nervous. I would here her on the phone when she thought I was asleep or out of earshot, "Where are you?" She would snap, followed by an exhausted sigh, "Well, just..." She would pinch the bridge of her nose, "Just please come home." She would beg. "I love you too." She would whisper before hanging up the phone.

I could just image Dad's face, his head bowed, a weary hand running down his features, saying that he'll be home soon.

I finally hit grass, and bolted behind Grandpa John's and toward the garage. Both of my Grandpa's had built a small apartment over the garage for Mom and Dad. Though when my brother, Anthony, was born Grandpa and Uncle Sam switched and we moved into the house. It didn't really matter though, in our sort of compound, I could stay at anyone's house and it wouldn't matter, they still shut the iron fence at night.

I turned the corner of Grandpa's house and long strong arms swooped me up.

"Uncle Sam!" I exclaimed panting for breath.

He tossed me high in the air, catching me he planted a kiss on my cheek, before he set me back on my feet and patting my bottom as I ran past him.

I could see him now, leaning over in to the trunk for something, "Daddy," I squealed trying to keep my balance on legs that were moving too fast for my body.

He turned around, a smile on his lips, "There's my girl." He knelt down and open his arms, and I fit perfectly. I wrapped my arms around his neck as tightly as I could, his arms engulfed me to his chest, as he left kisses in my hair. "Let me look at you," He would pull back, holding me up with one hand, and cupping my cheek with the other, "You look more like your mother everyday." He would say with a smile, "I missed you." He would whisper leaving a kiss on my forehead.

Mom would meet up with us eventually, Dad, never setting me down, would wrap his spare arm around her shoulders pulling her to his side, "I missed you too," He would smirk down at her.

She would hit his chest playfully, "Yeah, you better have." She would smile, all teeth, as he pulled her into a kiss.

Grandpa John had once told me that Dad loved Mom just as much, if not more than, Grandpa had loved Grandma Mary. Although, they never got married. Dad always said, "Why do I need a piece of paper for that?" Mom would just mutter something about it making him harder to get away.

There was no doubt though, my parents loved each other, even though Dad barely said it. At least not in front of anyone, I can count on one hand how many times I'd heard him say it. I asked mom about it once. She smiled setting down the glass she was drying at the time. "Your daddy loves us so much, that 'love' just doesn't seem a big enough word. So when he does say it, it makes it that much more special, because in that moment, he loves us so much that that's the only word he could think of."

That speech used to be enough when I was little. I didn't really understand it, but I accepted it. That is, until I was thirteen. They were just words, I couldn't understand why he couldn't just say it. I grew angry at him, I hated him for awhile.

He was still hunting though, his body covered in battle scars and old bullet wounds. This time he needed everyone. All the adults, Grandpa John and Bobby, Grandma, Mom, Uncle Sam, and I was stuck babysitting.

"I've got better aim than Uncle Sam!" I argued following my father around the house as he packed. "I could help."

"Honey, I'm not having this discussion." He would hold up a hand to me, taking boxes of ammo off the top shelf of his closet.

"But Dad-"

"No buts." He turned pointing a stern finger at me. "We are going to be gone for a couple days, okay? I need you to watch the kids. Garth is going to be running the Roadhouse, and Rufus will be at Bobby's okay, and Sarah will be with Tyler at the house. Protect the kids, alright."

"All of them?" There were four little Winchester's running around at this point including myself, well minus Tyler, he was still an infant. My first cousin, my only cousin for a long time, was Tyler. He somehow came out with fire red hair, and Uncle Sam's blue eyes, he was my favorite. So sweet and kind as grew, smart as whip too.

But then there was my little brothers Anthony and William. Anthony was seven at the time, and challenged my every word, all the time, and Will was only four.

Dad would roll his eyes, "They're just your brothers, come on. I was watching my little brother all the time when I was your age. Younger even."

"Yeah, well, you only had one." I would say putting my hand on my hip, sighing. Dad would just laugh and tell me how much I looked like Mom.

Before he left he turned to me, "I'm trusting you," He said with a hand on my shoulder. "Keep them safe." I had never seen real danger at our home, never once had it made it past the gate. I knew all about them. I knew what they were, how to kill them, I could recite anyone of Dad's stories to the letter, but I had never been placed in any real danger. I knew that's how Mom and Dad wanted it, how they designed it. But there was something in Dad's eyes that made me listen. "Protect your brothers." There was a distinct possibility that something might happen. I could see it as the uncertainty bounced in his green eyes. A matching set to mine.

"I will," I whispered nodding my head, the seriousness of the situation finally dawning on me.

He was scared, I know that now. He was scared he was never going to come home again. He tucked a curl behind my ear, as his brows furrowed. "I love you." He stated it like it was a fact. Something irrefutable.

It was twenty three days before I saw him again. I watched from the window of Grandpa Bobby's house as the convoy arrived, racing down the steps I saw the old Impala crawl to a stop in font of our house with only three occupants.

Aunt Sarah bounded down the porch steps and into Uncle Sam's arms. He buried his face in her hair and I could see his shoulder's shaking from what I thought, just for a moment, was relief.

Then I saw my parents. Still in the front seat of the Impala, Mom reached over and ran her hand through his hair before she sighed and got out of the car. Will brushed past me racing through the yard to meet her, wrapping his arms around her knees as his little legs finally caught up.

I stopped Anthony before he could do the same.

"What? Come on." He urged pushing my hand away.

"Wait." I commanded, watching the scene unfold before me.

Dad leaned his arm on the door of the Impala, resting his face in his hand.

"Something's wrong," Anthony whispered, taking a tentative step off the porch, his eyes finally seeing what mine were.

Grandma Ellen's old station wagon pulled up in front of us, Grandpa Bobby and Grandma got out. My eyes darted in between them and their tired faces, and down the road. There were no more cars coming, they had already shut the gate.

I heard the screen door shut behind me. "Bobby?" Rufus half greeted, half asked the question I was too petrified to ask.

Grandpa Bobby sighed taking his trademark trucker cap off and ran a shaking hand through his thinning hair. He looked at Anthony then to me and shook his head.

Anthony looked up at me desperately. "Honey? What does that mean?"

I knew what it meant. I knew who left, and I certainly knew who didn't return. Anthony's brown eyes swam with questions as his hand reached out for mine. I couldn't speak. I couldn't be the one to tell him.

My head snapped up as I heard the trunk of the Impala shut. Mom hefted a duffel bag over her shoulder, as her free hand wrapped around Will's shoulder, ushering him inside. I caught her eye from across the way. She gave me a watery smile before she glanced back at my father. He just sat in that car.

Grandma ran a hand through Anthony's hair and rested it on his shoulder, "Come on, baby, let's go say 'hi' to your mom." Anthony nodded numbly, reaching out for my hand again. I took it this time and followed them to the house.

Grandma gently ran a hand through my hair as we got closer to the house, pulling me close to leave a kiss on the top of my head. She took Anthony inside and I opened the passenger side door of the Impala.

I shut the door quietly and scooted over to the middle of the bench seat. I took my father's arm and put it around my shoulder's and burying myself in the crook of his arm, he smelled of gun powder and whiskey. He always smelled like that, even if he hadn't been drinking. The smell was just part of him now. "I'm sorry Daddy." I whispered after awhile.

He nodded slowly and I could see tears started to well in his eyes. He wrapped his other arm around me and held me tight to his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. I could hear Will's wails from the house, someone must have told him. I let go of a shaky breath as tears of my own began to prick at my eyes. I turned my head into my father's chest and wrapped my arms around his neck, leaving a puddle of tears on his shirt.

We had a hunter's funeral later that day. Grandpa Bobby had asked me to come with him to get the logs and sticks for the pyre. Mom urged me to go with him as she watched my father sit solemnly at the kitchen table, a full glass of whiskey in front of him.

I remember following behind Grandpa Bobby on the warn path, kicking up rocks with my feet and watching the riffle bounce slightly on his back with every step he took. He glanced behind him to look at me and sighed as he turned back around, "I know that face. It's the same one your father gets." He stopped walking until I was in step with him and put his arm around my shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

I ripped the small twig in my hands in half, "Is there a way to bring someone back from the dead?" I asked looking up at him.

He diverted his gaze quickly back to the path. "No." He answered flatly. "What's dead should stay dead. Don't be an idjit, you know that."

I nodded, "Yes, sir." I knew it was lie. I could read and Grandpa Bobby never locked up his books like Grandpa John did.

I had read about the crossroads, and the deals you could make there. I thought about it for a long time. Dad wasn't the same after Grandpa died. I would have done anything to make my father happy again. I would have sold my soul for him in a heartbeat. I planned on it, actually. I was going to sneak out after the funeral, after everyone had gone to bed.

Dad was still in the kitchen as I tip-toed to the front door. "There's nothing for him to come back to, you know." He spoke into the silence, his gravely voice filling the ground floor of the house.

I peaked my head around the corner and looked at him, readjusting the backpack on my shoulders. "What are you talking about?" I whispered innocently, cautiously stepping into the light of the kitchen.

Dad lifted his whiskey and regarded it for a moment before taking a large sip. "He has no body to come back to."

My brows furrowed as I stared down at the neon pink shoe laces on my sneakers. "They could give him one." I said naively. As much as I thought I knew, I still didn't understand.

Dad sighed, pulling out the chair to his left. "Sit." He demanded. I slid the back pack off my shoulders and set it on the table, doing as he said I took a seat in the chair next to him.

He moved his glass to the side and pulled the bag closer to unzipped it. He pulled out the books and my journal, a wad of cash I had saved up all summer from working at the Roadhouse, a burner phone from Dad's glove box, holy water, a rosary, a box of ammunition and a small revolver. Last was the small tin box with my school photo and one of Grandpa's fake ID's.

Dad sat back in the chair looking at all the contents that were once in my back pack. "Well," He chuckled sardonically as he looked back up at me. "You're prepared, I'll give you that." He sighed picking up his glass again and taking a drink.

"I just wanted to-" I tried to plead my case but Dad put a hand up to stop me.

"I know what you wanted to do." His tone had taken an immediate turn. It was hard and demanding, low and rough. The kind of voice father's use to strike fear in their children, whether they mean to or not. "Where did you get the books?" He began his interrogation.

"Grandpa Bobby's." I answered, bowing my head. I was in deep shit. "He doesn't know I took them."

"And the gun?"

"It was under the bar." I confessed, smirking at the memory of my ridiculous indecision from earlier, "The rifle was too big."

Dad shook his head, "And the money? Hunter's don't tip that well."

"They don't play pool that well either." I mumbled, not able to stop my mouth from running.

That's when he did something I never expected. He smiled at me. I don't know if it was the whiskey or just the events of the day that made him tell me this. But I never forgot a word.

He reached over and encased my small hand in his. "I know you want to bring him back for me. You wouldn't be my kid if you didn't at least think about it. But that would be worse than loosing my father. You are everything to me. You and your brothers are the only reason I keep doing what I'm doing. I go out and I make the world safer for you three. And if I lost one of you..." He trailed off rubbing a hand down his face before he looked me dead in the eye. I was frozen in my spot. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. "I wouldn't be able to survive." He let go of my hand taking a deep breath and told me to go back to bed.

When Mom found out I was grounded for three months and Grandpa Bobby started locking up his books.

When I was sixteen, I went with Dad to take Anthony shooting for the first time. I had gone when I was ten, so it was his turn now. I remember sitting on a blanket on the hood of the Impala baking in the summer sun, the breeze offering the barest of relief. I played with the fringe on my jean shorts as my long, gangly legs layed out before me.

Anthony stood in front of Dad, the same small revolver that I had tried to steal once, in his shaking hands. He had never even held a gun before this. Dad leveled his arms with his shoulders whispering instructions in his ear calmly. I knew them by heart. I repeated them every time I ever shot a gun, still do. "And then when you're ready, take a deep breath and squeeze."

BANG. A shot rang through the air, birds fled from the forest yards away and into the sky. The empty beer bottle on the old fence post stood stubbornly still.

"That's alright," Dad reassured him at the disappointed frown that painted Anthony's small features. "Try again. Just focus on the bottle."

Anthony nodded, squaring his shoulders and glaring at the bottle. Determination seeping into his stance. He took a deep breath. BANG. The bottle shattered.

Dad clapped Anthony on the back with a bark of laughter, "Yeah! Atta boy!" Anthony beamed up at my father. It was then that I realized I was not the only one vying for Dad's pride and love. Anthony was too, and in that moment, he gained a bit of it.

Dad waved me over, "Bring over some more bottles, Honey." He called. I slid off the hood, picking up the box of empty glass bottles and set them up on the posts. Anthony hit every one. Dad smiled down at his eldest son, "We'll make a Winchester out of you yet." He laughed as he put an arm around Anthony's shoulders. He smiled over to me, "Come on, Honey, why don't you take a few shots. Make sure you're not rusty," He winked at me.

I just glared at him as I set the bottles back up, stacking two on top of each other.

Dad smiled, knowing exactly what I was doing. He handed me his silver gun as I passed him and he pulled Anthony off to the side. I checked the clip and took the safety off, taking aim I hit the top bottles first and then made my way down to the bottom ones. I didn't miss a one.

Anthony whistled, his eyes wide. He had never seen me shoot before. Dad just smiled, his hands planted firmly on Anthony's shoulders.

I squared my shoulders and puffed out my chest as I looked at my father. I had been trying to prove to him for three years that I could be a hunter. Each time his answer was the same. An angry and resounding no. Still I studied and took kick boxing classes at the YMCA, and stole a gun at least once a week to practice shooting, that is if I could manage sneaking it out. Still Dad's answer was the same.

That is until I graduated high school. I passed by him as he sat in the kitchen, a beer sat covered in condensation to his right. "Sit." He demanded.

I rolled my eyes, instantly feeling patronized. Still I did as he said. He pulled a wooden box from the chair across from me and set it down on the table.

"What is it?" I asked looking from the box up to my father. It was just a little smaller than shoe box.

Mom came to lean in the doorway. "It's your graduation present."

"Open it." Dad urged, a ghost of a smile on his face.

I looked at both of my parents before I slid the top of the box. The same revolver I had stolen to sell my soul with sat on pink tissue paper, a protection charm necklace wrapped around the handle, the initials E.H.W. engraved onto the metal beneath the thin silver chain.

"I'm gonna make you a deal." Dad smirked at the irony of his words. Mom just rolled her eyes. "You go to school, you get a degree, and I'll teach you whatever you want to know."

"Are you serious?" I asked, my heart beating faster in my chest.

Dad nodded, "But you gotta do it, or I won't teach you shit, and trust me, I'll make sure no one else will." He added with a raised eyebrow as he pointed a finger at me.

"And trust me," Mom said with a bitter tone, "That's not a bluff, he's done it before." She looked over my head and glared at my father for a second, before she took a seat across from him and next to me. "We want you to have options. I know hunting is something you've always wanted to do but you can't blame us for wanting more for you."

I nodded slowly looking down at the gun in the wooden box. I placed my hands on either side of it and brought it closer to my chest. "Okay." I nodded more enthusiastically looking back up to them. "Okay, I'll go to school."

And I did. I got three degrees, a Bachelor's in nursing, and an Associates in Mythology and Latin. It only took me three years. I overworked myself and took night classes and summer classes. I filled all my time with school. The faster I finished the sooner I could be on the road.

The day after I graduated Dad took me on my first hunt. He had briefed me on the job for three days prior and our plan was to leave the morning after graduation. Little did I know, it was a test.

Dad, Uncle Sam and I took a three hour drive out to a cabin in Montana. I only learned later that it belonged to Rufus'.

Dad and Uncle Sam had set this whole fake job up, just to test me. There was supposedly a poltergeist terrorizing and old woman, Annie. She ended up being an old hunting partner of Grandpa Bobby's.

I had done everything by the book, my adrenaline was running, nothing was coming up on the EMF detector and I was starting to get nervous. That is until I noticed a protection charm painted on the wall hidden behind a book shelf. I knew immediately.

I turned around and glared at my father. I tossed the EMF detector on the couch, grabbed my back pack and stormed out of the cabin. "Honey!" I heard him call after me, but that just made me walk faster, "Honey!" He called again, this time closer. His hands wrapped around my wrist. "Where are you going?" He demanded turning me around to face him.

"You lied to me!" I yelled at him. I had never raised my voice to my father before. Even through all my bratty teenage years, I had never dared to shout at him.

He stepped back as if I had hit him, just as shocked by my volume as I was. "Honey, it wasn't like that," He pleaded. "I just wanted to make sure you were ready. I was testing you." He explained.

This only aggravated me more. "I'm ready!" I shouted ripping my hand from his grasp. "I've been ready since I was sixteen, but you're never around long enough to notice!" He bowed his head in shame and I knew I had hit my mark. "I've done everything you've ever asked me to and you can't keep one promise!" Tears streamed down my face as Uncle Sam came galloping down the path.

Dad took another step back from me looking up at me in shock, before turning on his heel, brushing past Uncle Sam as he made his way back to the cabin, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind him.

Uncle Sam shook his head as he turned back to me. He opened up one of his long arms and gestured me to his side, "Come here, kiddo." He rubbed a hand up and down my arm as I wrapped mine around his waist. "You are just too much like your father." He whispered against the crown of my head.

"I would never treat my kid like this." I pouted as the anger still bubbled under my skin.

Uncle Sam just laughed, "Yeah, that's what he said too."

I was angry with Dad for months. I didn't asked to go on a hunt with him again. I would ask Uncle Sam or Grandpa or Rufus, hell even Garth, but I refused to ask him. My pride and stubbornness, that I surely got from him, wouldn't let me.

Until one Christmas, I was twenty five, and I hadn't been home in almost a year. Mom and Grandma fussed over me the whole time, suffocating me. Anthony just laughed at me, "Maybe if you around more often it wouldn't be that intense." He was right of course.

He had gone through the hoax hunt too just days before I arrived home. Although he was tipped off, he knew it was a fake. He did everything wrong just to piss off Dad, who finally couldn't take it anymore and called the whole thing off. He knew I told Anthony all about it.

Will wasn't so lucky. Dad had sworn me and Anthony both to secrecy. And when it was time, Will was pissed we didn't tell him. Said it broke some kind of sibling pact.

Mine and Dad's relationship was strained after the first 'job'. The words I had said to him stuck and we barely spoke. My mother had told me years later that he was just angry with himself. He felt like he had failed me. He wasn't around much of my childhood and was gone more often after Grandpa John died. I wasn't much better, though. It's not like I tried to fix things. After all, I am my father's daughter.

He called me the night before he died. I could tell in his voice that something was wrong, but it was a tone I had heard numerous times over the years.

Something was wrong, but would he would be okay, I kept thinking.

He was Dean Winchester. Nothing could kill him. My father was invincible. Even all grown up, the thought of Dad dying some day never crossed my mind.

People used to say he must have an angel on his shoulder to make it this far. Mom would just smirk and say, "Who knows? Maybe even God himself."

But God must have gotten tired, always having to watch my father's back. He must have had enough.

Dad told me to be strong and to protect my brothers. To take care of Mom and to look out for Will, whose only nineteen. He told me he loved me and that he was sorry. He said that Mom, me and my brothers were the best thing he ever did. He told me he was proud of me and said that I would see him sooner than I thought.

I wanted to apologize, I should have apologized, for all the years I wasted being angry with him. I know it will be a long time before I see him again. This time I don't have a back pack for the crossroads.

I love my father. He was a difficult man. But he was a hero. He was my hero." I looked up from my speech into the sea of people in front of my father's pyre. They had come from all over, hunters and victims, friends and family. Just to say goodbye to him.

My mother stood in the middle, stone faced staring at his body wrapped in burlap. She hadn't said a word in three days. She wouldn't have even come outside if Grandma hadn't practically dragged her. Anthony stood to the left of her his arm draped around her shoulder, not even bothering to brush the tears from his face. Will stood to her right, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring at the ground. He had stayed like that for the whole service.

I was the last one to talk. The idea of a large funeral had been Aunt Sarah's idea and I had hated it at first, but now, looking at all the people in front of me I knew, we all needed this. Most hunter's don't get this much. But she was right, my father was different.

Uncle Sam handed me a torch and Anthony took a step forward lighting his own.

I refused to move until the pyre was ash. Mom and Will went inside as soon as the fire touched the pyre and Anthony stayed as long as he could bare it. I was the last one. I watched as my father burned. He deserved that much from me.

All the years I hated him, all the things I said to him weighed on my shoulders as the flames licked against his body. Tears continued to stream down my cheeks all through the night. I didn't blame my mother for not wanting to speak. He was her everything.

The way she would look at him sometimes would blow me away. Even as a small child, I knew there was no equal anywhere in the world to the love my parents had for each other. Grandma used to lean over to me when she caught me staring at them and tell me that was what fairy tales were made of. My heart broke, not only for myself, but also for her. I had no idea how she was going to survive this.

She had once told me that what ever happened in their lives she knew it was right, that every thing was how it should be. Grandpa Bobby said it had to do with something that happened on a hunt before I was born. He said all three of them, Mom, Dad and Uncle Sam, had come back changed somehow. No one would ever tell me what happened.

As the sun peaked through the clouds on the horizon, just barely rising, I felt it. His hand on my shoulder. I knew it was his, the smell of gun powder and whiskey blanketed over the stench of burning flesh. I closed my eyes fighting the urge to call out to him. I felt a warmth spread through me and I knew it was okay. Everything was as it should be.

I heard footsteps in the gravel behind me and a man came into my peripheral vision. He was an average man about the same height as me. His hair wasn't as red as Tyler's, but just as messy. "He was a good man." He said nodding over to the pile of ashes that used to be my father. "One of the best." He added.

I nodded silently.

"A very important man." He smiled, he spoke as if he was just thinking out loud. "Who finally gets to rest."

I turned and took the man in completely. He wore a wrinkled white button down shirt and worn jeans that frayed at the bottom. There was nothing about him that had any sort of distinction. "Did you know my father?" I had never seen this man before, but for some reason I knew that I must have.

He turned and smiled at me. "Very well. He was a brave man. You're a lot like him."

I turned and smiled at the sun. "Well, I am a Winchester after all."

I heard the man's chest rumble with a chuckle, "Yes, yes, you are." He turned, stuffing his hands in his pockets and started walking away.

"Hey," I called out to him, "What's your name?"

He turned and smiled at me again. "Chuck." He answered.

* * *

**So that's all folks, please let me know what you thought! I was a little nervous going into Part III and wasn't sure what I should do or how I could some it up. And then I thought of this and I hope you think it's just as perfect as I do. Thank you again for sticking with me on this one, till next time! **

**xoxox **

**Go ahead leave me some love ; )**

****Update** Check out the sequel to this story, The Beginning. **


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